Fair Shadow
by Athena Silverwolf
Summary: Melanie was a human girl who felt more at home in the woods than around people. Maelith was an Elf fighting for the fate of the world. Two girls, one human, one Elven. Two histories, one false, one forgotten. Two fates, one ordinary, one extraordinary. But they were one and the same. Eventual Legolas/OC
1. Dawn

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! So, recently I've been writing a Teen Wolf fic, and got a major case of writer's block, and then my laptop died. Thankfully, my parents got me a new laptop for my birthday, but now I've got to transfer all my work onto my new computer or an external hard drive. In the meantime, I'm picking up a LotR fic, because I saw the movies over the holidays and my muse has been roaring at me to write this. My character is based on myself, and I actually am a Junior Olympic archer so I know what I'm talking about. That said, unless you're a level 5 Olympic Archery coach, please don't correct my archery scenes. Hope you like it! Please review!**

**I'm adding a number of edits, mostly inner thoughts and emotions to better display everything in Maelith's head.**

**Disclaimer: LotR belongs to Tolkien. I only own my own character.**

Prologue

There was a stillness to the forest this early in the morning. Sunrise was still an hour away, but the woods were waking with the pre-dawn light. Beneath the red leafed oaks and golden maples and green pines, the autumn morning left a carpet of dew that in just a few weeks would turn to frost and then ice. Birds greeted the day with their chorus as squirrels chattered and climbed down their trees. A fox darted along a deer run, her red fur quickly lost in the greens and browns of the underbrush. Chipmunks and rabbits emerged from the holes, their noses twitching curiously. Nearby, at the edge of a clearing, low branches on a pine stirred, and a magnificent stag pushed his way through. Soon the clearing was full of young bucks clashing in the midst of the rutting season, the does grazing near the tree line as the fawns scampered and leaped in their play.

And it was all observed by a young girl of only nineteen winters. She stood downwind of the herd, beneath the sweeping branches of a yew tree, nearly undetectable. But had the herd noticed her, they wouldn't have minded. The girl was a familiar sight to all the woodland creatures, and they knew she meant them no harm.

The girl's name was Melanie. Home, or the house she lived in, was set in the middle of the New Hampshire White Mountains, and she never called it home. To her, home was here, in the forest. She had few friends in the small regional high school she attended. But her greatest lessons came after school hours, from her father, a park ranger, and her older brother, a Marine. There was no woman to call mother, nor did she have any other family. But like most people in their area, Melanie was hardworking and quiet, more comfortable with her animals than people. She was much more like the boys than the girls in her little town; she chopped wood, fixed the barn, handled a gun easily, even wore her silvery blonde hair braided and out of the way. But she knew how to skin the deer or pluck the turkeys and grouse her father brought in after a morning hunt. Like most rangers, she could repair her own clothes and cook a simple if savory meal over a fire or woodstove, and she knew the forest and mountains well.

With the mountainous terrain in their section of the National forest, cars were impractical, and most households had only one rugged truck. Children learned to handle ATVs, dirt-bikes, and horses long before they could drive the trucks, and she was no exception. Hunting was a norm for their town, whether it be by gun or bow, though Melanie preferred her simple recurve or longbow to the fancy hunting compound bow and rifles her father used. It was also pretty normal to see knives clipped to belts, and Melanie was no stranger to the various blades. Carrying a knife was her father's first rule for surviving the woodlands.

But in the early morning light, the girl almost appeared as if from another age. Melanie smiled down at her attire; these clothes she kept at the back of her closet for just these trips into the woods. Flexible and durable gray jeggings were tucked into sturdy, soft-soled boots in place of her jeans and work boots. Instead of her typically plaid long-sleeve shirt with a tank top, she wore a plain dark green long-sleeve shirt under a brown jerkin like vest. From a silver chain about her neck dangled her most expensive possession, a silver and emerald leaf pendent. And on her right ring finger, she wore a silver band engraved with Celtic knots.

However, it was the quiver of perfectly made wooden arrows on her back that gave the greatest affect to her attire. Gray and white feathers could been seen over her shoulder, and a plain brown bow was held lightly in her left hand. But if you took away the modern touches to her outfit and removed the bright orange hat from her head, there was a time-less quality to her appearance that made her feel more like she belonged to these woods.

With a soft smile at the antics of the fawns, Melanie slipped away, running lightly across the leaves. Only the faintest noise could be heard as she ran, her light weight and long practice turning her into a flitting shadow in the forest. And when she reached the river, she took only a few light, powerful leaps to climb upstream to her resting place at the foot of the waterfall. "If only you could see me now, Keith," she sighed, sitting gracefully on the wide, dry boulder.

Keith. Just the thought of her brother knotted her stomach in worry. Like the rest of the red-blooded boys in her town, Keith was a patriot, and had enlisted in the Marines on his eighteenth birthday. That had been over two years ago, and he'd only returned briefly after graduating boot camp. Then he'd been deployed to Afghanistan. She'd heard from him only a few times when he got the chance to send a letter, but she knew he was constantly in combat. As she sat there, a memory floated to the front of her mind of the day before he'd deployed.

They'd laid on this very stone, side-by-side, remembering their childhood and high school that Melanie had still suffered through at the time. They'd finally gotten around the talking about his deployment, and she'd broken down. She loved her older brother, and had looked to him for guidance and lessons over the years. He'd been the best big brother a girl could ask for, threatening off any one who picked on her and scaring away a number of annoying flirters. Melanie shook her head before her tears returned, and looked up at the dawn. "You'd call me your little forest elf and tell me to quit crying before I scared away the hawk," she said, placing her bow in her lap.

Then a noise behind her, from further upstream, caught her attention. She stayed relaxed, looking up at the sky, knowing that if it was an animal, they'd make more noise. And then she heard the strange words. They were a language she did not understand, but she felt the power behind them. She whirled, an arrow already knocked on the string, and rose to her knees. Behind her, the waterfall was shimmering with a white light. She stood, warily, her bow at fall draw as more powerful words rang around her, and drew a sharp breath. The water was parting, as if someone was pushing it open like a curtain.

Lowering her bow, she stepped forward, then ran nimbly along smaller stones to the waterfall. The falls were only ten feet high, and fell into a deep pool. Rocks ringed the riverbank, and provided easy access to the top of the falls from the side. In the summer, the teenagers, Melanie included, jumped from the top of the falls or swam in the clear pool. The water at the top was not swift enough to give the falls much strength, and it was easy enough to swim right under the cascade. But as more of the strange words called out to Melanie, she crept around the edge of the falls and ducked into the cave behind the water.

"Hello?" she called, seeing no one on the tumble of rocks the teens used as perches for sneaking kisses away from their friends. "Is someone there?" she asked. Another phrase sang in the air, and she was shocked to find that it seemed to originate from the water itself. So she crept close enough to touch the water, leaning out to stick her hand in the glowing curtain.

And the air was sucked out of her lungs as everything went white around her. If she'd had the breath, she would have screamed, but she could feel nothing but wind. There was a roaring in her ears that faded just as suddenly as it had begun. When she could breathe again, she found herself on her knees in a dark room. A single beam a white light pierced the gloom, shining off a smooth white slab. She climbed to her feet, using the slab as she found her knees shaking. There was a strange language engraved in the top of the slab, and she looked around at the whole shape. "Oh my god," she gasped, realizing it was a coffin. Shocked, Melanie reeled back, and stumbled over something.

The girl rolled away as she fell, then looked up. Bile rose in her throat as she realized it was a skeleton draped in rags and pierced by an arrow. She scrambled to her feet, pressing her back against the coffin as she looked around in horror. Every direction the girl turned, a skeletal small man stared back at her. "No, no, no, don't faint, don't faint," she chanted. Melanie could feel the dizziness and the lightheadedness winning as she stumbled away from the skeletons, but didn't make it far. Blackness washed over her as she collapsed to her knees, and Melanie knew no more as her head hit the ground at the base of the coffin.


	2. Cavernous Chaos

**Author's Note: And so she's in Middle Earth. Is she armed? Is she hurt? Will she be found? Also, I apologize if there are misspellings of names or whatnot, I haven't got my books to consult with. If someone knows the spellings, let me know, and I'll fix them ASAP!**

**Disclaimer: I own only Melanie**

Chapter 2

A loud rumbling woke Melanie. She jerked upright, pressing her back against the coffin as she swallowed her fear. The girl assessed the damage quickly, finding only a trickle of blood on her forehead that came away easily when she wiped at it. Just as she feared, her quiver and bow were gone, as was the knife on her belt and the smaller one she kept in her boot. Then she looked down at her clothes. "Whoa," she murmured, running her hands down the dark green tunic and brown jerkin that had replaced her shirt and vest. Her boots and jeggings were the only things still the same, though an examination of her boots found them more durable and sturdy than the ones she'd worn before. Even her hair was different, hanging longer and loose down her back, and it had darkened from its plain brown to deep, rich, chocolate. Her hat was gone, but her pendent still hung about her neck. Her ring was no longer a simple silver band; the engraved Celtic knots now made up the actual ring itself. It was elegant and beautiful, both strong and delicate.

Standing, Melanie peered around the room, avoiding the skeletons as she headed for what looked like a doorway. Indeed, there was a door, and she pried it open just enough to walk through. As she walked, the girl tucked her necklace under her shirt and then stared upwards in awe. High ceilings and rows of columns gave the room a cavernous feeling. She walked across the room, keeping the white beam of light directly at her back so she could find her way. Light appeared at the far end of the room, and she darted behind a column as a voice echoed through the great hall. Though she couldn't make out the words, the voice was the same as the one that she'd heard from the water.

Clenching her fists to keep her calm, she peered around the column as a very odd group approached. The first bore a staff topped with a ball of light, his long gray hair and beard shadowed by his hat, and she noticed the long sword at his side. _'Power and wisdom.'_ Next came a number of small men. One was different though, with a thick curly red beard under his helm and an axe in his hand. _'Sorrow and anger.'_ The four behind him were smaller, with large, bare feet, and looked more like children than the bearded one. They each bore a short sword._ 'Innocence and joy.'_ Behind them came two fully grown men, both sporting shoulder length hair and short beards. One was blonde and scowling, and he carried a shield on his back and a sword. _'Pride and conflict._' The other was dark haired and carrying a torch, bearing a sword and bow._ 'History and strength.'_

But it was the tallest of the group, the one with silvery hair that caught her eye. He carried not a sword, but a longbow, and a quiver of arrows peaked over his shoulder. The handles of two long knives rested beside the quiver, and his keen eyes darted around the dark cavern. It was he that gave off the strangest sense of other worldliness. _'Ageless and grace.'_

When the red-bearded man in the helm caught sight of the beam of light from the burial room, he let out a weird cry and darted for the room. "Gimli!" the wizard-esc man barked in warning, but the Dwarven man had already hurried away.

Melanie heard him cry out and crept closer to the group as they followed him inside the burial chamber. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," the wizard man read from the coffin top. She couldn't see around the three men in the doorway, but she dared not creep closer than the doors as the wizard read from a thick book. Then she jumped as something clattered and fell and echoed throughout the room. "Fool of a Took. Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity," the wizard man snapped once silence returned.

Then the drumming sounded, and the shrieking, and the group shifted uneasily. "Orcs!" the fair haired archer said, and the blonde ran to the doors. He went to shut them and Melanie panicked.

"No, please don't leave me out here!" she cried. A horrid stench was nearing, and when she looked behind her, a huge, gray, chained creature swiped at her. She rolled out of the way, hearing the huge club slam into the column behind her.

"Come on!" the man at the door shouted to her. She darted forward, yelping as two arrows thudded into the door behind her ear. The man grabbed her by the front of her tunic and flung her into the room, shoving the doors shut behind her. "They have a cave troll," he told the group as she scrambled to her feet. She watched the archer throw two battle axes to the blonde as he and the dark haired man barred the door.

"Can you fight?" the archer demanded, grabbing her by the upper arm.

"I have no weapons," Melanie told him, swallowing her building fear. _'Find a weapon,' _she snapped to herself, refusing to be a helpless woman and give in to her fear. Beside her, the wizard shed his hat and drew his sword, standing guard over the four child-like little men. The four of them drew short swords, the black haired one's glowing blue. The Dwarf climbed atop the coffin, brandishing his axe with a growl.

"Stay back," the archer ordered her, shoving her behind him as the first of the Orc things slammed the door. He knocked an arrow, standing between the rest of the group and the door. Beside him, the dark haired warrior had a bow, but Melanie just knew he wouldn't give it to her.

"Let them come. There is still one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws blood," the Dwarf snarled as the door shook.

Then Melanie saw the two long knives sheathed on the archer's back. Darting forward, she murmured, "Your knives, may I?" When he nodded, she grasped the smooth handles and slid them free. Spinning them into a fighting position she nodded in appreciation of the quality and backed away, feeling a lot less helpless with weapons in her hands. The dark haired warrior nodded to her as the blonde warrior pulled her behind him. He stood ready with a sword and shield and she took a deep breath as a spear tore through the old wood of the doors.

When a hole appeared in the door, she saw a pair of bright, ugly eyes burning with thirst for blood. The silver haired archer fired, his arrow taking the creature between the eyes and it fell back with a horrible screech. Melanie shuddered, then tightened her hands on the knives. The dark haired warrior fired as the fair one drew another arrow. Then the doors fell, and both archers fired as the strangest monsters Melanie had ever seen charged forward. With fierce cries, the Dwarf and blonde warrior engaged, and she saw the dark haired one drop his bow as he drew his sword.

Melanie was safe until she darted for the fallen bow. She ducked under a monster engaged with the blonde and rolled under an attack from the dark haired one. Her hand closed on the bow just as a monster appeared over her, but a silver blade flashed above her and the dark haired warrior decapitated the monster with a wild yell. She slung the bow over her narrow shoulders and stood, ducking under an attack from one of the monsters. She came up on its side and plunged one of the knives into its throat, killing it instantly.

Black blood spurted up onto her hand and she yanked the blade free with a disgusted yell. Then something slammed through the doorway and she whirled around. The gray monster that had smashed the column roared, and Melanie felt herself pale. The fair archer put an arrow in its shoulder, and she watched one of the little men, the biggest of the group, charge it with a yell. He ducked between the monster's legs as a heavy spiked club of stone slammed into the ground, and Melanie stumbled back.

The two warriors cut down the creatures holding the chains and grabbed the heavy links. Melanie stabbed another monster in the side then slashed her second blade across its neck, trying to protect the warriors as they kept the monster from killing the little man. The monster, what had the blonde called it, the cave troll, turned, and swiped at the two men. The dark haired one ducked, but the blonde went flying into the far wall. A creature, one of the orcs, roared over the blonde, and Melanie watched in awe as the dark haired one flung his long knife into the orc's neck. She found herself stabbing both knives into the back of an orc as it moved towards the dark haired one, then ducking beneath the spear of another. An arrow from the archer took care of that one as she stood, and she nodded her thanks to him.

Then the Dwarf flung his axe into the chest of the troll, and it smashed the coffin into bits. Gimli fell, landing heavily on his back, and Melanie darted over, drawing the attention of two orcs moving in on him. She lost sight of the little men as she kicked one weapon away and rolled under the strike of another. "Down, girl!" the wizard's voice ordered as she started to straighten, and she dropped flat to her stomach. His sword whistled over her head, cutting down both the orcs, but killing only one. The other hissed in Melanie's face and she plunged one of the knives into its forehead.

With a grimace as more blood covered her hand, Melanie climbed to her feet and sprang off the ruins of the coffin to drive her blades into the chest of an orc charging the dark haired warrior. If there was a chance they could get her out of here and explain, she was going to keep them alive as best she could. Then she was forced to throw herself backwards, rolling off the coffin to crouch behind it as the troll swiped at the Dwarf beside her. She watched in awe as the archer dodged a number of strikes from the chain of the troll then ran nimbly up the chain to the shoulder of the troll. But her attention was pulled away from him as the biggest of the little men, the one from before, used a cooking pan to smash away two orcs. One fell at her feet and she stabbed her knife into its chest without thinking.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," he told her. She grinned up at him from the floor and spun to drive her knives into the stomach of another of the orcs as its spear slammed into the ground where she'd been seconds before. She fought side by side with the Dwarf, helping him as he reclaimed his fallen axe. She didn't see when the dark haired warrior went flying, nor did she see as the dark haired little man was stabbed. But she did turn in time to see the other two little men leap onto the troll's back with furious battle cries and plunge their swords into its head over and over. Beside her, the Dwarf and the wizard attacked the troll, and she moved forward with her knives, looking for a place where she could attack. The sandy haired little man was thrown from the troll and then it knocked the Dwarf down, and she realized she could not throw one of the knives for fear of hitting the other little man.

The archer stopped her, pulling her backwards with a shake of his head. He stood before her, waiting for the perfect shot, then put an arrow in the exposed under throat of the troll. He pushed her back when the troll turned to them, and she gripped her-technically his-knives in fear. The blonde little man went flying when the troll finally fell, and Melanie looked around to see that the orcs had all fallen. "He's alive," the biggest little man called as the dark haired warrior turned over the dark haired little man.

The rest of the group relaxed, and then the archer turned to her. "Are you harmed?" he asked, his eyes wary. Melanie shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as her stomach rolled. She couldn't help but look around, though she tried desperately to focus elsewhere. "No, do not look," the archer instructed, taking her by the forearm and pulling her closer to the group.

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye," the wizard said from where he leaned against a wall.

The dark haired little man, or hobbit as they were called, pulled apart his shirt to reveal a white metal mail shirt. "Mithril," the dwarf realized. Clearly he was familiar with the material. "You are full of surprises, Mister Baggins," he told the hobbit.

A shriek from the great hall reminded everyone of the battle they'd just fought, and the wizard ordered, "To Khazad-Dum." The group followed as he ran, Melanie running beside the archer. She was surprised when he pushed her in front of him and she risked a glance over her shoulder. Orcs were massing behind them, other, smaller creatures scrambling down columns to block their path. The wizard skidded to a halt, the rest of the group forming a defensive circle. Melanie found herself between the archer and one of the hobbits and she shifted sideways to give the archer room. The dark haired warrior's bow was still slung over her shoulders, but she could not use it, for he still had the arrows.

The girl swallowed her panic once more, clenching her jaw as she readied herself for the fight. The army of strange creatures encircled them and the ones nearest Melanie snarled at her. She curled her lip in response then blinked confusedly as a roar echoed through the cavern. The room quaked with the rumble, and the dark army shifted uneasily. A second snarl, this one far closer, made the entire mass flee, chattering and shrieking. The end of the cavernous room was turning orange, as if a fire was rising. A third snarl, this one long and rumbling, made the group turn, and Melanie stepped in front of the hobbit beside her.

"What is this new devilry?" the blonde warrior asked, leaning towards the wizard. Melanie looked around, her stomach writhing in fear and unease, though the archer had lowered his bow.

"A balroc," the old man replied. "A demon of the ancient world," he explained, and the archer went perfectly still beside Melanie. A glance told her his eyes were wide, fear flickering in their blue depths. "This foe is beyond any of you," he told them all, turning to the side. "Run!" he ordered, and the group darted towards a doorway. Melanie flanked the hobbits, running even with the archer. When she saw the blonde warrior teetering on the edge of collapsed stairs, she cried out, skidding to a halt and sitting heavily to stop herself. But the archer was faster, grabbing the man and pulling him backwards, falling onto the stairs to pull them out of danger. The Hobbits crashed into her outstretched arms on either side of her, earning her muttered thanks from them as they gasped. Behind her, she heard the wizard say, "Lead them on, Aragorn," and she looked up. The Hobbits backed up, allowing her to stand, and she handed the archer back his knives. "The bridge is near."

"Do as I say!" the wizard shouted, throwing the stunned Aragorn back. "Swords are of no more use here," he snapped, herding the group down a side staircase. Her heart beating wildly at the drop beside her, Melanie followed the black haired warrior down the stairs, but they were forced to another halt at a gap. The archer barely paused, leaping gracefully across, and Melanie gasped.

"Gandalf," the archer urged, and the wizard flung himself over the gap. Then an arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in the rock at the blonde warrior's feet.

"Give me your quiver," Melanie ordered, turning to Aragorn. He shrugged it off and barely had time to sling it over her shoulder before she leaped across the gap. Unlike the wizard, she needed no steadying, and moved a few paces down the staircase to draw an arrow. The archer had already fired off two shots, and Melanie was shocked to find that she could actually see the creatures shooting at them through the gloom. She fired, and she watched in satisfaction as the creature she'd aimed for tumbled down into the chasm. As she did, the blonde warrior leaped across the gap, the smaller two hobbits in his arms. Part of the staircase collapsed as she fired again, and she saw the archer glance at her curiously.

Aragorn snagged the bigger Hobbit, saying, "Sam," and Melanie filed away the name for later. But for now she was focused on taking out the creatures firing on them.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf," Gimli snapped before he made a colossal effort and leaped. But he was just short, and the archer was forced to snag him before he fell. "Not the beard!" the Dwarf cried, but the archer ignored him to pull him up to safety. Melanie fired again as an arrow whizzed over the wizard's head, and the creature shrieked as it fell with her arrow in its stomach. She whirled as she heard the rumbling, and drew a horrified breath as the stairs collapsed again. Aragorn threw the black haired Hobbit back up the staircase, leaping upwards himself only to have his legs dangling in thin air. He hauled himself upright as Melanie turned and fired again. She berated herself for the distraction; an arrow had buzzed right by her, close enough to make her flinch.

"Come on!" Gimli cried as the stairs fell towards them. Melanie pulled the smaller two Hobbits back to make room, and watched in relief as the archer caught Aragorn and Sam caught the other Hobbit.

"We need to go!" she gasped, pulling the two little ones after her. They nodded and looked up at her as she hurried down the stairs, but it didn't surprise them when Boromir took the lead.

Melanie fell back, allowing the two warriors to lead as she followed the archer at the rear of the group. "Fly! Over the bridge!" the wizard shouted, turning to face the fire behind them.

The sight of the narrow bridge caused Melanie to stumble, but the silver haired archer caught her and pulled her with him, running confidently. "Think of the river," Melanie murmured, focusing not on her feet but on her goal, allowing the archer to lead. They were across the bridge and climbing the stairs before Melanie dared to look back. What she saw made her blood run cold. But she kept running, not stopping until they'd reached the dark haired warrior, the one called Aragorn.

"You cannot pass!" the wizard roared at the fiery demon.

"Gandalf!" the dark haired Hobbit cried. They watched in horror as the demon raised a fiery blade and brought it down on Gandalf, whose white bubble deflected and shattered the blade.

Aragorn started down the stairs, only to stop when Melanie snagged his arm. "You cannot. What good will you do?" she asked. The demon roared behind her, but she did not release the warrior.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf roared, and white light flared as he slammed his staff down on the bridge. She watched, horrified, as the demon stepped forward, only for the bridge to collapse before Gandalf. The demon roared in fury as it fell, and the wizard sighed in relief, turning away. And then Melanie was forced to fight Aragorn back as the fiery whip wrapped around Gandalf's ankle and knocked him down. The glowing staff and sword went flying, falling into the chasm as the wizard clutched the edge of the bridge desperately.

On the stairs above Melanie, the dark haired Hobbit was screaming the wizard's name, and she prayed someone was holding him back. Then she gasped as the wizard fell, and Aragorn's hand clasped her forearm. "Aragorn! Aragorn!" someone bellowed, and he turned away from the chasm. Melanie released him, darting up the stairs behind him. She fired one last arrow at the strange creatures before she ducked and ran after Aragorn.

When the sunlight hit Melanie, she stumbled and slowed, raising a hand to shield her eyes. The others kept running, though they eventually slowed to a halt. Melanie felt tears falling, the scene of the wizard's death fresh in her mind, and she came to a stop a little ways behind the silver haired archer. The blonde warrior was holding back Gimli, the three fair Hobbits sitting and crying. "Legolas, get them up," Aragorn ordered, wiping his blade. Melanie glanced at the archer, and when he responded, realized his name must be Legolas.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!" the blonde warrior cried.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs," Aragorn replied, sending a shudder down Melanie's spine. "We must reach the woods of Lothloriel," he called up the rocks, sheathing his blade. "Come Boromir, Legolas. Gimli, get them up," he ordered, though his eyes were gentle. Legolas and Melanie helped the pair of light haired Hobbits to their feet as Aragorn lifted up the one called Sam, and then Aragorn called, "Frodo!" He called again, and Melanie looked up to see the dark haired Hobbit had wandered away from them. He came back, walking slowly, and stuck close to Sam's side.

Aragorn took the lead, Legolas and Melanie following on light feet. The four Hobbits, stuck close into their pairs, came after the archers. Boromir and Gimli brought up the rear, weapons sheathed though they were alert. "Come on then," Legolas sighed to Melanie, and she nodded, jogging beside him as they headed for the foothills. Melanie did not know what the woods of Lothloriel were, but silently hoped they were safety. As every minute passed, she grew more and more confused, and she knew the group would soon question her about who she was. But the problem was she didn't know what to tell them.


	3. Silver Choices

**Author's note: Thanks to asphodel moonlight for reviewing!**

"_Elvish" vs. 'Thoughts'_

"Common" vs. actions

Chapter 3

Melanie did not speak the entire descent to Dimrill Dale. They stopped only briefly at Durin's Stone, where Gimli told the Hobbits the tale of the Mirrormere, or as he called it, Kheled-zaram. There, Aragorn tended to Frodo, who bore a deepening bruise upon his chest and ribs. Legolas did not sit, and Melanie noticed that he did not appear even to be winded. She too felt well enough to remain standing behind him, barely out of breath, though she did turn away to gaze out at the Misty Mountains. She knew not where the names for these places came from, but they floated in her head, and she knew them to be true.

Her companions were quiet in their sorrow, all but the man of Gondor. His grief turned to anger, and he found a convenient target in the strange Elven girl. "What's your name, girl?" Boromir demanded, standing before her.

"Boromir," Aragorn sighed. His eyes had narrowed at the man's tone, and he saw the girl flinch slightly closer to Legolas.

She hesitated, and nearly said Melanie. But the name just didn't feel right anymore. As a new name whispered in her hear, she understood and she said, "Maelith." She found that she liked the ring of the new name. It felt like it belonged to her.

"And how did you come to be in Moria?" he asked.

"Your wizard used words of power, only some could I understand, but he pulled me from my own world into yours. When I woke, I was there, in the burial chamber," she replied, trying to be honest.

"And your world? What is it called?" Aragorn asked when Boromir went speechless.

"Terra. I am from the country of America," she told the leader. He was far less hostile, though it was very clear to Maelith that he did not trust her. "Thank you for saving me," she sighed, lowering her head as she pulled the bow and quiver from her shoulder. It would probably be wise to unarm herself willingly in the presence of these warriors.

But to her surprise, the man held up his hand, staying her as she went to give them back. "Keep them. It is folly to travel here without weapons. And you can clearly use them," he told her, and she nodded. "Come then, we must keep moving," he called to the others as she replaced the weapon.

"Forgive me, Lady Maelith, but this land of America, are Elves a strong people there?" Legolas asked quietly as they resumed their jog.

"There are no Elves in my world," the girl replied, keeping her voice low.

This seemed to confuse the archer greatly. "But you are an Elf, my lady" he said, glancing at her.

"I'm human," she protested, pushing her hair back behind her ears. Then her hands stilled and Legolas watched, worriedly, as her fingers ran along the shape of her ears. "What in the world?" she murmured, bending the pointed tips as if she could not believe it. Shock and fear thrilled through her, and it took a battle of will power to keep her voice steady and firm.

"Lady Maelith, is everything alright?" he asked gently. She seemed genuinely shocked, and her bright blue eyes had gone wide.

"I swear I was human. This should not be possible," she told him, biting her bottom lip.

"You were not always this way, my lady?" he asked, looking at her once more. It was her elven appearance that had made him trust her with his knives in the burial room.

"No. I was human until I came to this world. My hair was shorter, and it was thicker than this. It used to be plain brown, though I do prefer this color. Plus my ears were round. And I was definitely shorter in height," she explained, her pulse quickening in confusion and fear.

"Were you always so capable with a bow, my lady?" he questioned her curiously. If not for reaction, he would have thought her the typical Elven woman.

"Please stop calling me my lady. I am a simple girl. But yes, archery is very typical in my home. Though I have always found myself drawn to weapons such as this and my people do not use them often," she replied, her hand touching the bow on her shoulder.

"I am sorry. It is a sign of respect for my people to call strangers such. What sort of weapons do your people use if not these?" he asked, tracking Aragorn with his eyes.

"My country is very different. I am afraid you might not understand me if I tried to explain. All I can tell you is that all of this, the swords and longbows, is no longer used, and for they are old fashioned in my land. Bows are hunting weapons from where I was born," she tried to explain and found she could not. She looked up, and smiled. The humming fear in her pulse faded as she gazed upon the trees rapidly growing closer, and a small smirk of comfort titled her lips upwards. They were approaching the forest, and she knew it meant safety when Legolas sped up. Maelith ran lightly along beside him, deeply enjoying the fact that she could keep up with the Elf. It seemed he enjoyed it too, for he offered her a small smile as they ran.

"Well, if you were not always an Elf, you are now," he told her, and she was surprised to find that calling herself an Elf felt right. Perhaps it was because Keith had always called her one, but she felt more at home in this new body than she had in her human one. Then they crossed the tree line and they slowed to a walk, Maelith falling in behind Legolas as she smiled up at the ancient forest. With the falling light, the silver boles faded to gray, and the wide golden leaves high above simmered like fire as they caught the sunset.

"This place is called the Golden Wood, is it not?" she asked quietly.

Legolas seemed to sense her awe and glanced back her. "The forests of Lothloriel," he told her softly, nodding. "Stay close," he added, looking around.

A creak of wood as pressure was applied was the only warning Maelith had before a bow was pointed straight at Aragorn. She and Legolas reacted instantly, their own bows coming up as they stood back to back, but they were far outnumbered. Maelith blinked, though she was not surprised to see that the archers looked very similar to Legolas, though they were draped in silver instead of green. "The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," a regal looking Elf stepped forward, speaking to Aragorn with the ghost of a smug smile.

Maelith's breath caught in her throat and she nearly faltered. Lowering her bow, she blinked rapidly, startled and confused, though none of it showed in her expression. She knew his face. But how? '_Why am I drawn to him as though I know him?'_ she asked herself, staring wide-eyed at the guard of Lorien.

"You will all follow me," he ordered, and the archers moved back.

Aragorn followed after the Elf, and simply said, "Legolas." Maelith glanced back as she followed the leader, and saw Legolas striding after her, his arrow already returned to his quiver. Though they were completely surrounded, she had to admit that Legolas's presence just behind her calmed her. They walked, in silence, as the sun set over the forest and a full moon rose. The greens of the trees were turned to silver, and Maelith could not help but look around in pleasure.

When they reached the bottom of the spiraling staircase straight up the tree, Maelith faltered. "What is it?" Aragorn asked from in front of her.

"I cannot go up there," she told him, glancing at the Elves around her. Their faces were cold, expressionless, but their eyes spoke of displeasure and curiosity. Curious about the Hobbits and displeasure that bordered on hate towards Gimli, they did not seem to mind the presence of the two men. Though it appeared they all recognized Legolas to be of rank, for many bowed to him and nodded to Maelith. This made her curious. What secrets did Legolas hold?

"I will not let you fall," Legolas murmured in her ear and she swallowed. Taking a deep breath, she reached up and took Aragorn's offered hand, keeping the other pressed firmly against the tree trunk. The warrior's hand was rough and calloused, as she had expected, but the warmth was welcome. She did not breathe easily until she was able to stand just behind Legolas on the platform. The Hobbits stood behind her, all of them clearly uneasy.

Then the Elf they'd followed spoke to Legolas, his voice rich and kinder than it had been earlier. _"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion,"_ he said. Somewhere in the back of Maelith's elvish mind, a translation was made to, "Well met, Legolas, son of Thranduil." To her surprise, she knew the name, Thranduil, but could not remember why. He touched his right hand to his heart, and Maelith understood it to be a gesture of welcome.

_"Govannas vin gwennen le, Haldir o Lorien,"_ Legolas replied calmly. He was uneasy, though Maelith suspected it was more because of his companions than Haldir. Maelith blinked, the translation coming easily to her. "Our fellowship is bound to you, Haldir of Lorien."

'_Haldir. I know that name. That name is of great meaning to me would I remember,'_ Maelith could feel the weight of the name, but did not know why she held it. This Elf was clearly important, but to her dismay, she could only listen and watch as his eyes brushed over her.

Haldir dipped his head, as though in acknowledgment, and his gaze turned to Aragorn. _"A Aragorn in Dunedain istannen le amen." _He used the same gesture of welcome, his voice sincere and calm. (Ah, Aragorn of the West Men, you are known to us.)

Aragorn dipped his head, making a similar gesture of thanks as he replied softly, "Haldir"

"Ah, the legendary courtesy of the Elves. Speak words we can all understand," Gimli growled.

"We have not had dealing with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir told him in common tongue.

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that?" Gimli replied. Then Maelith flinched, her mind having instantly translated the very rude cuss words.

"That was not so courteous," Aragorn said, his voice warning the Dwarf not to do it again.

Haldir moved around Aragorn, his gaze resting on the Hobbits, and he spoke to Frodo. Maelith stiffened at his words, wondering of what evil he spoke. "You can go no further," Haldir told them as Aragorn sighed.

Maelith moved to stand beside Legolas as the others took seats on the platform, and she listened worriedly as Aragorn and Haldir argued quietly. "Legolas," she murmured, her voice soft as to keep Boromir from overhearing. Then in the elvish tongue she observed, _"The forests have calmed you since we arrived."_

_"Just as the moon has brightened your eyes,"_ he replied, and turned to offer her a small, delighted smile at her knowledge of his language. She couldn't help but smile back, and they lapsed into calm, patient silence. Maelith found herself twirling her pendent in her fingers, watching the moonlight glance off the silver.

Then they turned together as Haldir spoke, "You will follow me." He started down the staircase, and Legolas followed, taking Maelith's hand before she could hesitate at the height. At the bottom, he released her with a nod and she strode after him when Haldir glanced at her curiously. They walked through the night and into the dawn, and Maelith watched as the sunrise turned the forest to gold. Though heavy with sorrow, the quiet was peaceful, and all of the Fellowship knew that even if they were not welcome, they were safe within these borders.

At the crest of a hill, Haldir came to a stop, Legolas falling in at his shoulder. Maelith caught her breath in amazement at the sight before her as she moved up to Legolas's other side. "Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on Earth," Haldir told them. "Home of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." And then they followed him down the hill and across the valley into Caras Galadhon, where Maelith gazed upwards in astonished awe. She barely even noticed the height as they climbed one of the spiral staircases, though when they reached the platform, she had to shift closer to Legolas and the warmth that soothed her fear again. They were standing at the very back of the platform, only two steps from falling to their deaths, and she did not understand how the elves could be so comfortable with these heights.

And then two figures approached, light shining both behind them and from them. When the light died, a man in silver and a woman in white stood on the stairs. Celeborn was regal and dignified, Galadriel captivating in her beauty. Beside her, Legolas touched his hand to his forehead, and she followed suit, bowing forward as she saw Aragorn do the same. "The enemy know you have entered here," Celeborn told them. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." Then his eyes roamed over the group and settled on Maelith. "Eight that are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell." Maelith bowed her head, the lord's words reminding her immediately that she had no right to be part of this group. "Tell me, where is Gandalf. For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

"Gandalf the Gray did not pass the borders of this land," Galadriel said, her voice light and trancelike. "He has fallen into shadow." Celeborn turned to her, the entire group having already looked to her.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame," Legolas told her. Maelith understood that falling to shadow was to say someone had fallen to evil. "A balrog of Morgoth," he explained, and both the lord and lady bowed their heads, recognizing the loss of a powerful friend. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Maelith looked up at him at that, knowing that if they had not come, she would have died in that cavern.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose," Galadriel replied. Then she took in the grief and defeat of Gimli and said, "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dum fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of pain. And in all lands love is now mingled with grief."

"What now becomes of this fellowship?" Celeborn asked. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep well," Galadriel looked at each of the fellowship as she spoke. But she didn't look at Maelith.

Haldir lead them down the stairs once the Lord and Lady had turned away, and Maelith allowed Legolas to pull her along after him. _"Welcome home, Canneth of Lorien," _Galadriel spoke in Maelith's head, her voice calm and soothing. _"Pethvain of Greenwood is welcome among cousins," _the lady added.

"_Thank you,"_ Maelith thought back, recovering easily from her surprise. Somehow she just knew those names were for her, as if she had been known by them before.

Haldir lead them through the great trees to where a pavilion had been set up between the roots of one. "I will send attendants to take you for bathing," he told them when they settled to the ground. It did not take long for them to unarm themselves and relax. Not long after he left, two men and a woman appeared, and Maelith slid down from her perch on the roots to follow the woman.

_"I will take your clothes and wash them while you bathe,"_ the woman told her when they reached a crystal clear stream. It wound through a private grove, and for that Maelith was thankful. The attendant turned away as Maelith undressed and waited for the girl to slide into the pleasantly warm water before she took the clothes further downstream. Maelith found a bar of soap, ivory comb, white towel and a set of clean white undergarments on the river bank, but it was the silver and white dress that was unexpected. She made it the fastest bath she could, using the bar of soap on both her skin and her hair. The tan of working outdoors her whole life was gone, and she found her Elven skin to be porcelain. Once she'd climbed from the water, she dried as fast as she could, then dressed in the undergarments and a silken white under shift.

But it was the dress that got her stuck_. "Could you help me?"_ she called to the woman waiting outside the glade.

It did not take long for the woman to lace up the back of her dress, and then she offered, _"Would you ask it of me I would fashion your hair."_

_"Oh, yes please,"_ Maelith replied, quickly describing an intricate but simple pattern she loved. The woman's fingers flew lightly over Maelith's head, and when she held up a mirror, Maelith was pleasantly surprised. Four thin braids, two on either side of her head, pulled her long hair away from her face. They joined at the back of her head, falling as one large braid down her back on top of all the lose hair. It was an elegant, lady like design to a warrior's mark. Somehow Maelith knew that only warriors braided their hair, healers preferring twists, and others letting their hair hang loose. _"My thanks, and thank you for the dress. It is very beautiful,"_ Maelith murmured, slipping her feet into a pair of soft silver slippers.

The woman dipped her head, then led her back to the pavilion. Maelith found her clothes, washed, dried and folded atop her quiver. Gimli was lying in his bed, and she found Boromir seated outside. Both straightened at her approach, and Gimli's eyes widened fractionally. "Lass, you've turned into a princess on us," the Dwarf remarked, taking in her gown. She nodded her thanks to him, but did not like the way Boromir's eyes lingered. Shifting away from him, she smiled as she heard the Hobbits returning, their footsteps unmistakable.

"Yes! A mighty pretty warrior princess!" Pippin announced, running into the clearing. The other Hobbits and Aragorn followed behind him, all dressed in their cleaned clothes. The grief in the group was palpable, and Maelith found herself sitting in a hidden alcove, away from the pavilion. A lilting, haunting song filled the air, and as she listened, she could not stop herself from crying. She cried for Gandalf and the pain his death had caused within her companions, though that soon faded as the last two days caught up to her.

Images flashed in her head as she remembered, and her tears came faster and faster. She buried her head in her arms as the shock of finding herself in a new world came back. The horror of waking in a tomb, surrounded by skeletons came back right after that. Fear, for she'd never fought a battle, and the disgust of having killed orcs soon overwhelmed her, and she had to bite her lip from sobbing aloud. Eventually, she cried for the confusion of suddenly being an elf, and for being among the elves. But at last the tears came for worry; what was she going to do when the fellowship continued on their way? What was she going to do if she could not go home? Was her father frantically searching the forests for her, having no idea where to begin?

"Maelith?" a soft voice caught her attention, and she lifted her head to find Aragorn standing over her.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to wake you," she murmured, hastily wiping her face.

"Another gift of the elves; you are quiet even when you cry," the man assured her, sitting down in the grass beside her. Maelith met his eyes, and his gaze softened with understanding. "You are conflicted," he observed.

"I do not know what I am going to do when you continue on your way," she explained softly.

"Well, you would be well looked after if you wish to stay here. I will not ask you to continue on with us. The road ahead is full of peril," he replied.

"What if I wanted to go with you?" she asked.

"I would first tell you the reason for our quest," he told her. Then he told her the story of the one ring and the dark lord. He explained the great evil Frodo carried, and how he, Legolas, and Gimli had sworn to protect the young Hobbit. Boromir had come only to see the quest completed, but the other three Hobbits had come for Frodo. When he was done, they sat in weighted silence. He seemed to sense her thoughts and said, "You need not make a decision now."

"No, I will come. There are reasons unknown to me, but I am tied to you, Aragorn, and this Fellowship. Seen it I have and leave you I will not. I have already fought alongside you once before. It's just, Boromir does not trust me, and nor do I think Gimli does," she replied.

"You do your people well with your courage," he told her. "Do not worry about them. You will prove yourself to them as you have to me," he assured her. She nodded and he stood, offering his hand to pull her upright. When they rejoined the others, the Hobbits were asleep, as was Gimli. Boromir was lying on his bed and, and Aragorn took the spot behind him. Maelith joined Legolas on the far side of the pavilion, lying on her back on the pallet beside his. He was awake, though even he knew to use the time to rest. Before she closed her eyes, she noticed that he wasn't wearing his green traveling tunic and appeared regal and noble in the embroidered silver tunic. She followed his lead, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the softest of pillows.

"_Peace, Maelith of Lindon. Here in our world do you belong,"_ Galadriel spoke quietly and gently as she passed by the pavilion, but Maelith did not stir. She was lost in a sleep like trance, just as Legolas was, for the Lady had promised them they would sleep well.

Maelith quickly lost track of time within the forests of Lorien. They settled into an easy routine, one that allowed for both rest and training. In the mornings, Legolas took her and often Gimli exploring while Aragorn and Boromir spoke with Lord Celeborn. Galadriel often slipped into the pavilion and stole away in the company of four little Hobbits. After lunch they would rejoin in their clearing and train with weapons and maps alike. Dinner was spent trading stories, and Maelith learned much of her companions. She did not see Haldir again, though she often thought of him, and struggled to understand how she could know him if she'd never been to Middle Earth before.

One day, Aragorn returned from a discussion with Celeborn in a grave mood. The others quickly picked up on it, and their meal was strangely quiet. "Maelith, you still have time to change your mind," Aragorn told her gently when they gathered for lunch.

"No, Aragorn. My decision remains the same," she told him.

"Your decision?" Sam asked.

"Maelith is going to accompany us for the rest of the quest," Aragorn told the group. Legolas nodded to her, and soon after they'd eaten Aragorn announced, "We're leaving tomorrow. Get some training in today and sleep well tonight." With that, they spent the rest of the daylight practicing. Aragorn had Maelith use Legolas's knives and go against Boromir with his long sword. They had found she was skilled with the knives, but when she picked up a sword, she knew only the basics from watching the others. But Aragorn pushed her, forcing her to do whatever she could to beat him.

The next morning, they suited up for the journey, and Maelith had to change out of the dress. All she had to carry was Aragorn's quiver and bow, and she did not even have a cloak. But she needed haven't worried, because Haldir lead them to the docks, where they loaded the three boats with their gear and supplies the elves had given them. Legolas opened one pack, and pulled out a square leaf wrapped packet. "Lempas," he exclaimed happily. "Elvish waebread," he explained. He bit off a tiny corner, and told Pippin and Merry, "One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." He handed the piece to Maelith, and she tore off a small piece. He watched her as she ate it, and smiled when she sighed in pleasant surprise.

Once the Elf climbed back to shore, Maelith turned to pack the bread away once more. As she bent over, she heard Merry ask, "How many did you eat?"

"Four," the smaller hobbit replied, causing Maelith to let out a peal of laughter. Legolas turned on the shore, wondering where the chiming laugh was coming from. When he saw that it was Maelith, he smiled, but she did not see.

Then Haldir called them back up the banks, where they found Celeborn, Galadriel, and a dozen elves waiting for them. The elves placed green cloaks around their shoulders, Celeborn saying, "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." Haldir put one around Legolas's shoulders as Celeborn himself gave one to Boromir. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

Then Galadriel presented her gifts. To Legolas she gave a beautiful and powerful bow, saying, "My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our Woodland kin." Then to Maelith she handed a quiver of white feathered arrows, and Maelith found two long knives identical to Legolas's sheathed on the back. The differences were the handles. Maelith's were of dark gold, Legolas's of pale cream. She explained, "Beautiful, brave Maelith, for you I have the weapons in that you seek such comfort."

Maelith drew one of the blades, then, in awe, murmured in Elvish, _"My beauty cannot compare to yours and your kindness, my lady."_

Galadriel smiled, then moved down the line. To Merry and Pippin she presented matching knives and said, "These are the daggers of the Nolworine. They have already seen service in war. Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage." For Sam, she had a coil of silvery rope, and she said, "And for you, Samwise Gangee, elven rope, made of heath line."

"Thank you, milady," Sam said, then glanced at his friends and asked, "Have you run out of those nice shiny daggers?"

Galadriel only smiled again and moved to Gimli. She asked kindly, "And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?"

"Nothing," Gimli replied, then looked up. He said, "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadrie one last time."

Maelith had not listened after that, instead she had offered one of the knives to Legolas and watched him examine it. He'd nodded, then slid it back into its sheath and touched her arm to lead her back to boats. He'd boarded the craft he would guide with the grace typical of an Elf, and offered his hand to help her down. Though she'd not needed it, she took it, then climbed to the front of the boat. "Maelith, I want you to take this," he said. When she turned, he was holding out his old bow. "It is only proper that an Elf carry an Elven weapon."

"You have been kind to me these few days, Legolas. Thank you," she murmured, taking the bow. Holding it reverently, she examined it, taking in the vine like pattern of gold etching in the dark wood. Drawing it back experimentally, she nodded, much preferring the hundred pound draw weight to Aragorn's sixty pound hunting bow. With a smile of appreciation to the Elf, she set it beside her quiver at her feet. She fell quiet as Gimli climbed into the boat and looked around. Aragorn was the last to board his boat, and then they pushed off from the shore. Everyone was deep in thought, though when Maelith looked back at Legolas he seemed peaceful.

"I have taken the worst wound of the sporting. I will look my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me," Gimli sighed.

"What was her gift?" Legolas asked gently. Maelith smiled at the elf as he spoke, for the tone of his voice was both pleasing and very calming, much like the forest they had left behind.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three," the Dwarf replied. Both the Elves smiled down at him, for it seemed the Lady of Light had cured the Dwarf of his hostility towards the Elven people. As they traveled down the river, Maelith could not resist the temptation to lean forward and trail her hand through the crystalline waters. The cool water was clear, and she gazed down at the rocks and sand, all the while resting her head on her arm. Gray scaled fish slipped beneath her hand, brushing white fingers that stood out as a curious beacon. It was so calm and serene that it was hard to imagine facing grave danger around any bend. But she knew the peace would not last.

**AN: Translations of Elvish come from a site called Council of Elrond. Please review!**


	4. Side by side and back to back

**Author's Note: Thanks to the most incredible for reviewing! And Dark Lady, here you go!**

Chapter 4

"Maelith, your bow," Legolas murmured. She turned to look at him, instantly ready with the weapon. His eyes flicked to the bank, where birds had erupted from the trees as though disturbed by something. Most people would have been wary to take a long distance shot from a rocking boat, but Maelith trusted Legolas to hold the craft steady. She searched the tree line, but she could neither see nor hear anything that could explain their uneasiness.

"Can you put us beside Aragorn? I would feel better if he had his own bow with him," she said, sitting back with the bow in her lap. The Elf nodded and paddled twice and they glided up next to Aragorn's boat. Maelith passed over the dark haired warrior's strung bow and replenished quiver, sliding them behind the man's seat so he could reach them if he needed them.

They stopped for one uneasy night on the river bank once the sun had set. Legolas and Maelith took up places around the perimeter, their bows loaded and resting in their laps as the others settled for the night. When she heard Aragorn acknowledge the creature's presence, the Elven girl did not like the idea of Golem following them. Then Boromir confronted Aragorn, making Maelith shift uncomfortably, and Aragorn glanced at her. He turned back to Boromir and growled, "I will not take the ring within a hundred leagues of your city." Then he strode over to where she sat and knelt before her. "The White City fell from her glory long ago. There are many who would do anything to restore her. You must beware the greed of men," he murmured.

"Does that include you?" she asked softly.

"If I falter from my oath, would you put an arrow in me?" he asked.

"You will not falter, Aragorn. You are stronger than that," she replied, but she nodded anyway. She understood, even if she did not like the idea of keeping an eye on him. It was right for him to fear the temptation, with him being the heir. He leaned forward, pressing a fatherly kiss to the top of her hair before he returned to his bedroll. She swapped places with Legolas twice during the night to stretch their legs, but nothing stirred in the shadows of the woods. Maelith drew no comfort from this forest; there was only a sense of danger and darkness.

The next day, they set off along the river with tangible tension in the group. Gimli had moved to the front of the boat and Maelith sat with her quiver on her back and bow in her lap. Legolas seemed to sense her unease or perhaps he shared it. Between strokes of the paddle, his hand found her shoulder. It was as if to reassure himself. She didn't mind. He was reassuring her too. "Look," he murmured eventually.

She looked up and her breath caught. Two magnificently tall statues stood on either side of the channel. The one on the right held a sword against his chest and was depicted with a beard. The other was either a woman in a battle helm or a much younger man, she couldn't quite tell. "Who are they?" she asked softly.

"The Kings of Old. They were the first Kings of Gondor," Gimli told her gruffly. She gazed upright in awe, as she had done many times already until her neck hurt from the angle. When they drew up on the western shore of the lake, Legolas was quick to scout out the area, venturing a little ways into the forest. Gimli and Pippin set about making a fire as Boromir and Merry headed into the woods to collect wood. As he returned, Maelith and Legolas stood side by side. They were both deeply uneasy as Aragorn brought sleeping rolls up from the boats.

"We'll cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot," Aragorn decided. "We approach Mordor from the North."

"Oh yes," Gimli scoffed. When Aragorn turned to look at him, he explained, "Just the simple matter of finding our way through Emmenguye, an impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better. A festering, stinking marshland, as far as the eye can see." Pippin had stopped chewing whatever he was eating, and the poor little thing had gone pale.

"That is our road," Aragorn said calmly. He refused to be daunted by the path before them. It was just another reason for Maelith to respect him and his leadership. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf," he told Gimli.

"Recover my…" Gimli grumbled, but sensed that he could not argue with Aragorn.

Maelith turned away from the forest as Legolas approached their leader, her unease growing. "We should leave now," Legolas told him softly.

"No," Aragorn replied. "Orcs patrol the Eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness," he reminded the Elf.

Legolas looked back at Maelith, who was biting her lip in clear worry. "It is not the Eastern shore that worries me," he told the man. He scanned the forest behind Maelith as she moved towards him, adding, "A shadow under threat has been growing in my mind." Then he insisted, "Something draws near, I can feel it."

"Aragorn, there is something out there. The forest should not be this still, nor this quiet. We are not safe here," Maelith murmured, her shoulder brushing Legolas's arm.

Then Merry came out of the trees, his arms loaded with firewood. He dumped it beside Gimli, patting the grumbling Dwarf on the shoulder as he straightened. Then he asked the words that stilled everyone's hearts. "Where's Frodo?"

Immediately everyone looked around, but Maelith's stomach sank when Aragorn's gaze fell to Boromir's shield and empty bedroll. "Legolas, Gimli, stay here," he ordered. As he started into the woods, Maelith followed, understanding now why he'd spoken of greed last night. He'd known the whole time that Boromir wanted the One Ring. "Spilt up," he told her, and she nodded, hurrying up the hill.

She dared not call out for Frodo, but as she found neither the Hobbit nor the man, she grew increasingly worried. Then to her relief, she heard Frodo yell, "Stay away!" She darted up the hill, her bow in her hand, fearing the worst. Instead she found not Boromir but Aragorn kneeling before the Hobbit. She approached quietly, standing beside the column as she watched the two. The man's words and actions only strengthened Maelith's idea that Aragorn was stronger than he thought himself to be.

Then Aragorn drew his sword, backing away from Frodo. "Run," Aragorn ordered Frodo, but the Hobbit did not move. Maelith turned from the noises that had caught her attention to see Frodo's sword glowing blue. Remembering the battle in Moria, and how that sword had glowed blue, her eyes widened in alarm. So she turned the Hobbit, her hands burning as one brushed the chain about his neck, and pushed him down the hill, just as Aragorn ordered again, "Run!" Then, running nimbly up the stone steps, she braced herself atop the ruins, knocking an arrow as Aragorn raised his sword below her. "Maelith, go! Get help!" he called to her.

"I've a better idea!" she called back as she fired into the lead Uruk-hai. Then she drew a deep breath, and screamed, as loudly as she could, "Legolas!" There was no doubt in her mind that the Elf would hear her and come as fast as he could. She dared not fire near Aragorn, but when the orcs backed the warrior up the stairs, she fired at the ones on the ground.

"Find the Halflings!" the helmetless one roared, and Maelith shivered. The orcs headed down the hill and Aragorn leaped off the ruins with a fierce cry. It took only two arrows to shoot down the ones he left behind. And as he stabbed an orc from the ground, she shot the one next to him, but she knew she could not shoot fast enough to protect him if he did not rise.

And then Legolas was there. "Aragorn, go!" the Elf yelled as Gimli tackled an orc. He fired, then used an arrow to stab an orc and fired the arrow without hesitating. Maelith continued to fire from atop the ruins, leaving the closer ones to Legolas as she took out the back of the orc mass. Then she heard Merry shouting, and her stomach sank. Without hesitating, she leaped, using her momentum to drive the sharpened end of her bow through the neck of an orc charging Legolas. Snarling in her disgust, she whirled and drew a knife, slashing down another one behind her. On one side, Legolas killed an orc with every strike, whether it be with a shot, with the bow itself, or with a knife. The two Elves whirled around each other, weapons flashing in deadly grace. Maelith quickly developed an awareness of the Elf that allowed her to stay the perfect distance away as to stay out of his range but watch his back.

Maelith lost count of how many orcs she killed, but she supposed that was a good thing. The more she killed, the fewer could go after Frodo. Eventually, she stood back to back with Legolas, firing at orcs as they ran down the hill. She shot one down from behind Gimli as Legolas took care of Aragorn's attacker, and the horn sounded from downhill. "The horn of Gondor," Legolas said, turning.

"Boromir," Aragorn realized, sheathing his knife to run by the two archers. Maelith knocked arrow after arrow, determined to clear a path for their leader, but for every orc she shot, another replaced it. Slowly they moved downhill, and Maelith used the staircase as a perch to shoot. She could see Boromir protecting Pippin and Merry as he backed down the hill. But she lost sight of them as they ran further down the hill. The orcs were so focused on the Hobbits that they turned their backs on the others. This presented Maelith with perfect targets, but there were just too many of them.

Then she saw the leader of the orcs, the helmetless one, raise a bow. "Boromir!" she cried, but she had no clear shot of the orc archer. So she didn't see when the short, heavy arrow pierced the warrior's chest. Nor did she see the second shot take him in the stomach. But she saw the third shot hit him, and she let out a furious cry. Every time she fired at the orc leader, another one of the monsters got in the way. "Merry! Pippin!" she screamed, but she was too far away even as she started running. Their battle cries and then their fading voices told her she was too late.

As she ran for Boromir and the Hobbits, an orc with a knife in its shoulder reared up in front of her. As she ducked, her hand closed around the handle of the knife. The orc spun around, intent on stopping her, and she ripped the knife free as it turned. Then she plunged the blade between its eyes and stepped back to watch it fall. The knife was still in her hand when she turned downhill.

To her horror, Boromir knelt in the leaves. The orc archer stood over him, bow coming up to deliver the kill shot. So she let her instincts take over and let the knife fly. When the blade struck, the bow thudded to the ground, the arrow shooting off into the woods. The orc was turning, drawing his sword, as Aragorn slammed into it. They went down, scrambling back to their feet as Maelith raised her bow. Aragorn was thrown backwards into a tree, and his sword was knocked from his hand. So she fired and the orc threw his damn shield. The arrow glanced off the shield, and then Aragorn was too close for her to fire again.

As she tried to move closer to help, Aragorn shouted for her to stay back and plunged his sword into the uruk-hai. "No," she breathed when the orc actually pulled Aragorn's sword deeper into his chest. She blanched, but saw her opportunity as her eyes fell on Boromir.

He was trying to sit up when she dropped to her knees beside him. "My greed got the better of me, Maelith," the man of Gondor whispered to her. His eyes bored into hers as he grasped her hand, and he ordered quietly, with the strength of the Captain of Gondor, "Do not let him fall."

"No, Boromir. You fought valiantly. You do your people honor," she told him, using her free hand to cover his larger and tanned fingers. The warmth was fading from his skin already. Trying to prop him up against the rocks, her eyes took in the three arrows and the flowing blood as she heard Aragorn yell. His sword rang, glancing off metal before it tore through mutilated flesh. The snarling of the orc leader was cut off, and then she heard the man running towards them.

She sprang out of the way and Aragorn knelt before the other man. "They took the little ones," Boromir gasped.

"Stay still," Aragorn ordered softly, but even Maelith knew Boromir was not going to survive. So she backed away as the blonde warrior asked of Frodo. When she stumbled over an orc's body, she fell to her knees and made no move to get up.

Boromir was dying because she had not been fast enough to get to him, because she'd been too afraid to leave the ring of relative safety Legolas provided to go after Aragorn. Perhaps if she had trusted herself in the skirmish she could have saved him. Loathing and shame made her fists clench but she knew Aragorn would feel the same way. They'd both failed Boromir. "Not again, Boromir, I promise," she whispered into the wind, though she let her hair fall over her shoulders in a dark curtain.

But she had to look up when Legolas ran up. A quick look told her he was unharmed to her relief. "Legolas," she murmured, and felt his hand under her elbow. He pulled her upright and pulled her into his chest, instinctively turning her from the carnage. He'd seen the shame and guilt in her blue eyes, and he could guess what it was for as he watched Aragorn, heir of Gondor, gently kiss Boromir, son of the Steward, on the forehead. So he held her, his silvery hair falling over her chocolate braids as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder. Grief, and confusion washed over him. He, as an Elf, was not used to losing people he cared about. While he understood that men died, and Elves could fall in battle, to actually see it happen, twice now, was another matter. He could not comprehend the grief he felt for Boromir and Gandalf's deaths.

"They will look for his coming from the white tower," Aragorn said, "but he will not return." He let them stand there for only a minute, then requested, "Gimli, take Maelith back to the beach. Clean out one of the boats. Legolas."

"I will stay," the Elf assured him softly, looking down at Maelith. She backed away, drawing her sleeve over her face to wipe her tears away as she turned to follow the Dwarf. It was a somber pair that set off down the hill, and it did not take long to empty the supplies from the boat. Maelith was not surprised to find only two boats; she knew if she looked across the lake she would see Frodo and Sam paddling for the Eastern shore. With a heavy but soft sigh she sorted through everything that Gimli brought her. She had a feeling they would not be taking the boats again and piled all the bedrolls beneath one of the trees. The packs of food went by the fire, spare weapons in a third smaller pile. Gimli took his own extra axes, these ones for throwing, and slung them on his back or through his belt.

The Dwarf clearly knew what Aragorn intended, for he carried Boromir's shield to the empty boat just as Aragorn and Legolas came down the hill. Aragorn bore the body, leaving the Elf to carry their fallen comrade's sword. They laid Boromir in the boat and then Legolas stepped back to allow Aragorn to arrange his sword and push the boat off.

Gimli watched, still as a statue, as the fallen warrior went over the falls. Maelith was tying a rag around a wound on Aragorn's arm as he too watched, and she dared not look up at his face. Then Legolas spotted Sam and Frodo. He shoved the last boat into the water as he called, "Hurry! Sam and Frodo have reached the Eastern shore!" But when no one else moved, he looked back at Aragorn. The leader sighed, and Maelith risked looking up. The man had turned to look across the lake, though she knew he could not see the other boat. "You mean not to follow them," Legolas realized.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn explained, gently placing his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli snapped as the Elf turned to look out over the lake. "The Fellowship has failed."

The three males, each of a different race, drew together, and Maelith moved to stand beside Legolas. Aragorn placed his hands on the shoulders of the two men, assuring Gimli, "Not if we hold true to each other." Gimli's hand came up to clasp Aragorn's forearm and the man turned to Legolas. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death," he promised. "Not while we have strength left," he added, this time fixing his eyes on Maelith. She nodded and he turned to the pile of supplies. "Leave all that can be spared behind," he ordered, replacing his knife in its sheath. "We travel light. Let us hunt some orc," he declared. Then he took off into the forest.

Legolas looked down at Gimli and the Dwarf smirked. He let out a yell that sounded something like, "Yes!" before he charged after Aragorn.

Then the elf turned to Maelith, and she asked, "For what do you wait?" He smirked, and they jogged after Aragorn. If they ran they'd leave their leader in the dust. As they moved through the trees, their blue eyes met, and they were bright with the light of a challenge. And as they had not been defeated, nor would be so easily, there was still hope. There would always be hope, so long as there a battle to be fought.

**AN: This is not the end! There's still two more movies to go through! Please review. Pretty please.**


	5. Over the Hills

Chapter 5

They ran. For a day and a night they ran through the forested hills. On the second day, the trees thinned, and turned to rocky hills. And then they ran for another night, through the third day, and continued on through the third night. By sunlight and moonlight, through fog and mist, over hills and waters, they ran.

Legolas and Maelith did not tire. Their stamina would last for days at this pace. But by the fourth morning, their thirst had begun to grow. They ran on, though, for Aragorn would not stop. Between the two Elves, they had formed a silent agreement. Legolas would often fall back, calling to Gimli when the Dwarf fell behind. When he did, Maelith ran with Aragorn. If and when Legolas and Aragorn took the lead, Maelith fell back to jog alongside Gimli.

Aragorn was a Ranger, he knew how to track the orcs. Even Maelith could follow the trail, for the creatures had made no effort to hide their tracks. But Aragorn had often dropped to the ground since they'd left the forest, pressing his ear to the rocks to listen to the pounding of the orc army. So Maelith was not surprised when he stopped her and rested his head against another outcropping early the morning of the fourth day. "Their pace has quickened," he told her after a moment. She looked back at him, having stood guard with him lying prone on the rocks. "They must have caught our scent," he sighed, pushing himself upright. He looked back down the hill and called, "Hurry!"

Maelith let him run by her, meeting Legolas's eyes as the Elf looked up at her. He nodded, and she took off after Aragorn. Her footsteps were light, everything about her was noiseless but for the chain about her neck when it bounced against the Lorien leaf on her cloak. "Come on Gimli," Legolas called down the hill, though he was eager to catch up with the other two.

They ran on.

Once they reached the crest of the hill, they were able to travel more easily, heading straight along the hilltops instead of going up and down over each hill. It worked far better, and for a while, Gimli managed to keep close. Legolas and Maelith ran side by side then, their footsteps even and nimble on the rocks. Gimli usually went around the stone to run on the grass, but Aragorn leaped over the bare rock when he could. The Elves did neither. They used the rocks to leap out and cover more ground, their grace and strength allowing them to hardly change pace to move along the stone.

Maelith gave up on Gimli for a little while, pushing on to catch Aragorn and Legolas. She reached them as Legolas was turning back to a kneeling Aragorn. "They may yet be alive," the Elf realized.

"Less than a day ahead of us," Aragorn assured him, handing Maelith the Lorien leaf in his hand. As he and Legolas ran on, she saw that it belonged to neither of them, and her heart lifted to think that it belonged to Merry or Pippin. She darted after Aragorn and heard the clatter of Gimli's armor and his grumbling behind her.

"Come, Gimli!" Legolas urged, running after her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that the Dwarf had indeed fallen. "We're gaining on them!"

"I'm wasted on cross-country!" Gimli shouted grumpily. "We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances," Maelith heard him call. She laughed quietly, though Aragorn and Legolas both heard her. The Elf chuckled as he leaped by her, climbing the rock face with ease.

Then they came to a stop along a rocky ridge. "Wow," she murmured, standing between the man and the Elf. She was looking out over hill-land and rocks, and it stretched as far as she could see.

"Rohan," Aragorn told her. "Home of the Horse Lords," he explained. "There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us," he murmured. Maelith heard his voice fade behind her as she darted along the rocks after Legolas. She could tell by the set in his shoulders that he'd seen something. "Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?" Aragorn called.

"The Uruk-hais turn North-east!" Legolas called back. Maelith too saw the plume of dust rising, though she could not see the orcs. "They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard," he realized.

"Isengard?" Maelith asked. Once again she knew this name, and it stirred a storm of anger, fear, and pain in her heart. Isengard would hold no good fortune for her, of that she was sure.

"Fortress of the White Wizard Sarumon. Once the mentor of Gandalf, now the most powerful ally of the Dark Lord Sauron of Mordor. It is Sarumon who has created the beasts we hunt into an army," he explained, touching her arm to turn her around. He ran back across the rocks and she followed, springing easily down the cliff-side as Aragorn and Gimli worked their way down. The Elves slung their bows about their shoulders, dropping from handhold to foothold to another handhold. Maelith went more carefully than Legolas, for she did not trust her Elven body the way he did. Though, she supposed, he'd had far longer to trust it than she.

By afternoon, Gimli had fallen not twice more, but at least three times that Maelith had seen or heard. The poor Dwarf was just not meant for this landscape, and while neither where the Elves, they adapted where as he could not. At one point, Legolas finally remarked, "They're running as if the whips of their masters were behind them."

"This may take longer than we thought," Maelith sighed, increasing her speed when he lengthened his stride to catch Aragorn. Indeed it did take longer than Aragorn had predicted, for the sun was setting only a few hours later. They still had not seen the orcs.

By dark, Aragorn called, "Legolas, Maelith!" The Elven pair slowed, then ran in a wide circle to return to their friends. "I dare not run as we have with no moon," he told them.

"Oh praise the rock gods," Gimli cheered, immediately sinking to the grass.

"We'll rest, but only for a moment. Then we continue, at a walk. We have to get a close as we can while they are stopped for the night," Aragorn replied.

Maelith sighed and took a seat on a rock, her bow resting on her lap. But Aragorn was tired too, and they not food nor water. "Maelith," Legolas called quietly. She lifted her head from her hand to see him standing silhouetted against the stars nearby. "There is a stream should you wish to steal a drink," he told her. She stood and followed him a little ways down the hill, kneeling beside him at the edge of a stream. The cool water ran over her hands and she sighed. Then Legolas surprised her, though it shouldn't have. He spoke a soft phrase of Elvish, and she raised one sleek silver eyebrow. "It was only a word to ensure the water you drink is safe," he assured her.

"Oh. Thank you," she murmured. Cupping her hands beneath the water, she raised them dripping, to her lips, and swallowed a mouthful. After a second, she moved away from the water to the rocks. "I have so much to learn about being an Elf," she sighed, tilting her head to look up at the stars.

"I will teach you," he promised. He glanced over at her and saw that her eyes had been drawn to the sky. So he looked up, watching the clouds roll across the stars like waves.

"Might I ask you something?" she asked after a moment.

"But of course," he replied. He watched as she pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. It was a surprisingly human position, and then he remembered that being human had been the majority of her life.

"What is Greenwood?" she murmured. "Galadriel called me Pethvain of Greenwood."

He was taken back. Then he smiled fondly as he thought of his home. "Greenwood is the old name for the realm of the Elven King Thranduil. It is a great forest and home of the Wood Elves. The realm lays to the North of us, though it is dark and called Mirkwood by men now," he told her.

The name Thranduil was familiar to the girl, though it took her a moment to place it on the platform the first night in Loriel. Haldir had called Legolas the son of Thranduil. "Then you are my Prince," she realized, looking up as Aragorn called to them.

Legolas stood, then helped her upright. But when they both stood, instead of letting her go, he moved closer. They were face to face, and Maelith was instantly aware of it. "I would be your friend before I was to be your prince," he told her softly.

She had no idea where her reply came from. But before she realized she was speaking, she whispered, "As I would be your friend before I am to be your warrior." Their eyes met, and then hers lit with a challenge. He saw the devious smirk before she leaped away, bounding up the hillside. He took off, knowing a race when he saw one. He gained on her quickly; he was stronger and had longer legs. But she was faster and remarkably agile even for an Elf, so neither was surprised when they halted side by side before Aragorn. The man took the lead and the pair followed, Gimli bringing up the rear as they walked on into the night.

The light of the pre-dawn had their pace quickening. And when the dawn finally broke over the mountains behind them, Legolas stopped Maelith and turned to it. "A red sun rises," he said. She turned, and saw that this sunrise was like any she had seen in this world. Red, orange, and purple clouds covered the sky above the sun, which burned red as it rose. "Blood has been spilled on this night," he explained, turning back to run after Aragorn.

They did not go far before Aragorn knelt, moving to press his ear to the ground. But he was stopped by a horse's neigh. He looked around, then gestured to an outcrop that split in two. He ran towards it, and Legolas instantly pushed Maelith in first. She knelt, and he crouched before her as Gimli and Aragorn hid. Her jaw dropped when a company of horsemen, armed with long spears and swords, cantered by their hiding place. "Aragorn," she hissed when their leader stood.

He strode out of the rocks and shouted, "Riders of Rohan! What news from afar?" His voice carried over the thundering of hooves and the clanking of weapons, for the horsemen swung around without slowing. Legolas, Gimli, and Maelith moved out to stand behind the dark haired man as the riders were approaching. They showed no signs of slowing when the first line cantered by, and Maelith turned her back to Legolas, her shoulder brushing Aragorn's arm. The four made a defensive circle while the riders encircled them, and then the spears came down.

A dappled gray horse shoved its way through, stopping before Aragorn. The rider snapped, "What business does a man, an Elf, a woman and a Dwarf have in the Ridenmark?" When none of them answered, he ordered, "Speak quickly."

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli replied.

The leader of the riders dismounted and moved towards them, forcing Aragorn to place his hand on Gimli's shoulder. "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," the man growled.

Instantly Legolas had an arrow aimed at the rider, snarling, "You would die before your stroke fell." All around them, spears were leveled at the Elf, two different ones grazing Maelith. She caught her breath but pulled Legolas's bow down.

Aragorn nodded to her, then turned to the leader of the riders. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas and Maelith of the Woodland Realm," he introduced them. Maelith placed her hand on Legolas's arm when she saw the cold glare he gave the rider. "We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden, your king."

The rider sighed, then said, "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." He paused to pull his helmet from his long blonde hair. "Not even his own kin," he added bitterly. Then he explained, "Sarumon has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over his lands." In front of Maelith, Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a glance, then looked around at the riders around them. The blonde man before them, who Maelith sensed Aragorn knew, saw and said, "My company are those loyal to Rohan and for that we are banished."

"But why?" Maelith asked softly.

"The white wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked," he replied, his brown eyes boring first into Aragorn and then Gimli. Then he stood before Legolas, mistrust steeling his stare. Then he said, "And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets."

"We are no spies, sir," Maelith told him, her eyes flashing at the accusation. "We are hunters."

The rider looked to Aragorn, and he explained, "We track a party of uruk-hai across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night," the blonde growled, his eyes flaring with hatred.

"There were two Hobbits," Gimli said urgently. "Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

At the man's confused expression, Aragorn told him, "They would be small, only children to your eyes."

"They have curly hair, and big feet," Maelith added hopefully.

The rider's eyes dropped from Aragorn's, and Maelith's stomach sank as he said, "We left none alive." Then he turned and gestured to the hills they'd ridden over. "We piled the carcasses ad burned them," he told the four. They looked between the horses, and Maelith closed her eyes in horror as she saw the plume of smoke rising into the air.

"Dead?" Gimli asked.

The rider nodded, then bowed his head and apologized. Legolas placed his hand on Gimli's shoulder as Aragorn reached for Maelith. She turned into his shoulder, but refused to let her tears fall in front of the riders. Then the blonde whistled sharply and called, "Hasufel, Arod!" Two rider less horses came forward, one brown, one white. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters," he said, handing the reins of the brown to Aragorn. The white one, a gelding, nudged Legolas, and the Elf caught the side of his bridle. "Farewell," the rider sighed, turning away and replacing his helmet. Maelith did not watch as he remounted, but she heard him say, "Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." Then the riders galloped away, and she backed away from Aragorn.

Legolas swung up into the saddle of the white horse as Aragorn mounted the brown. Gimli shrugged and took the man's offered hand, because even as a poor horseman, he would rather ride than run. "Come Maelith," Legolas murmured, and she drew a shaky breath. Grabbing his hand, she leaped up into the saddle behind him with ease. Her entire human life had been spent around horses and she was thankful for it.

She rode with one arm loose around his waist, the other holding her bow at her side. There was always a chance of danger here, and they all knew it. But the closer they drew to the burning pile, the tighter her throat became, and she had to swallow a number of coughs. Even as Gimli used his axe to search through the smoking pile, she could not look, for her stomach was rolling with the foul stench in the air. Uruk-hai were foul creatures in life, misshapen and cruel, and it seemed in death and flame they were even worse. "It's one of their wee belts," the Dwarf said, holding up a piece of burned leather.

Recognizing the design as Lorien, Maelith let out a choked sob and Legolas's arms closed around her. He bowed his head, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he murmured, _"Hiro hyn hidh ab'wanath."_ She easily translated it to 'may they find peace after death.' And tears leaked from the corner of her eye. She had not known Merry and Pippin for as long as they, but the pair had made her laugh and smile and shake her head in wonder every day. Then she jumped when something clattered, and Aragorn let out a pained yell of failure and grief.

"We failed them," Gimli said quietly.

"But we tried, Gimli. We did not abandon them," Maelith murmured, her head still resting on Legolas's chest. The Elf nodded into her shoulder as she spoke, and she heard the Dwarf's heavy sigh.

"A Hobbit lay here, and the other," Aragorn muttered, running his hand over the ground. Maelith turned, and Legolas gently wiped a tear from her cheek as she watched the ranger. "They crawled. Their hands were bound," he said, and then he stood. The other three followed as the man tracked Merry and Pippin, though Maelith dreaded what they were to find. Then he knelt and lifted something from the ground. "Their bonds were cut." He walked a few steps. "They ran over here." A few more steps. "They were followed." Then he broke into a jog, and Maelith hurried after him, pulling Legolas by his hand. "The tracks lead away from the battle!" he declared. "Into Fangorn Forest," he realized as they came up short at a dark and tangled tree line.

"Fangorn…what madness drove them in there?" Gimli asked. Maelith did not understand why the males hesitated. Sure, the forest was dark, creepy, and very wild looking, but they had long hours of daylight left. If there was any hope that Merry and Pippin had survived, they needed to keep looking.

Maelith took a deep breath and released Legolas's hand. She tossed her hair back as her chin came up, her eyes drying. Legolas watched, a proud smile turning up the corners of his mouth, for he knew what she was thinking. So he drew his bow from his quiver and strung it. He stood, tall and proud beside her, his shoulders straightening. Gimli saw them and he hefted his axe, a fierce growl of determination rumbling in his chest. It was Aragorn who moved last, nodding to the Elven girl as he set his jaw with renewed purpose. "We will not fail them," she told him and they started into Fangorn Forest.

A little ways in, Gimli found a thick black liquid on a broad leaf. He touched a finger to it, then tasted it. Instantly he spat, and declared, "Orc blood." Maelith shook her head at him in disgust, leaping over a thin creek as Aragorn followed new tracks. Legolas and Gimli were just behind her, the Dwarf's breathing loud in her ears. Then she realized why she was so uneasy.

The forest was silent.

Completely and utterly still, there were no signs of animals or birds among the giant trees. "These are strange tracks," Aragorn told them, kneeling in the dirt.

"The air is so close in here," Gimli remarked from the rear.

Legolas exchanged a glance with Maelith as he told them, "This forest is old. Very old." Maelith moved closer to him, her unease growing again, for she too could feel the trees. "Full of memory and anger." Wood creaked and groaned, and their silver and chocolate hair flared as their heads whipped in opposite directions. Gimli gasped and raised his axe. Instantly Maelith felt the anger around her as the groans grew louder. "The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas realized.

They turned to see Gimli with his axe raised to strike. "Gimli," Aragorn hissed. "Lower your axe."

The groaning ceased as Legolas and Maelith moved through the forest, the other two falling in behind them. A sound caught Maelith's attention, and she placed her hand gently on one gnarled trunk. White flashed behind her eyes and she whirled towards Legolas. "Aragorn, _nad no ennas_!" the Elf said, moving past the human. 'Thing be there.'

"Thank you," Maelith murmured to the tree, and was rewarded by the slightest creek. Then she pulled her hand away and looked up to see that the three males had gathered above her.

_"Man cenich?"_ Aragorn asked, standing at Legolas's shoulder. 'What do you see?'

"The White Wizard approaches," the Elf replied. Immediately Maelith drew an arrow, knocking it on the string. Her fingers slipped naturally into place, one above the arrow, two below, though she held the bow relaxed before her.

"Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us," Aragorn told them quietly. He grasped his sword, loosening it from its scabbard. "We must be quick," he ordered. Then the three whirled and Maelith ducked. Gimli flung an axe, only for it to shatter as white light flared around the wizard. Legolas's arrow too was deflected, and Aragorn dropped his sword as it heated in his hand. His hands came up to shield his eyes, as he was closest to the blinding light, as Maelith stood behind Legolas. She had not fired, for she had seen Gimli's axe shatter and knew the uselessness.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits," an echoic voice said from the light.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded.

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" the wizard asked. He was still shielded by white light, making it impossible to make out his features.

"Who are you?" the dark haired warrior asked. When the wizard did not reply, he ordered, "Show yourself!"

The light withdrew, and Maelith took a step back. "It cannot be," Aragorn murmured. Legolas and Maelith knelt, and Gimli quickly shifted his axe to do the same.

Standing on the rock above them was a wizard, draped in white robes. His long straight hair was as white as his staff, but it was his face that shocked them all.

For it was Gandalf.

**AN: hehe, sorry, little cliffy. I couldn't resist. Please review!**


	6. Black and White

**Author's note: Thanks to the Dark Lady for reviewing!**

Chapter 6

"You fell," Aragorn protested. He could not believe that it was truly Gandalf.

"Through fire and water. In the lowest dungeon on the highest peak I fought the balrog of Morgoth until at least I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountain side. Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time. The stars wield a net, and every day was as long as a life age on the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done," the wizard told him.

"Gandalf," the man whispered, stepping closer.

"Gandalf? Yes, that was what they used to call me?" the wizard replied. Aragorn nodded, and Gandalf seemed almost to smile. "Gandalf the Gray. That was my name."

"Gandalf," Gimli choked out, and if Maelith had looked to him, she would have seen his eyes to be bright with tears. But she did not because she had backed away. Her friends were clearly shocked and overjoyed at the return of the older man, and she knew she had no right to intrude.

"I am Gandalf the White," the wizard said, and a horrible thought occurred to Maelith. It was Gandalf the Gray who had called Melanie into this world. What if he were to see his mistake and send her back? "And I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide," the wizard told Aragorn. "Now, come, there is much to do and little time to do it," Gandalf said, and he strode through the silent forest. Maelith hurriedly moved from his path, bowing her head as he sailed by her. Then he stopped before her and lifted her chin. He searched her eyes, and she found she could not look away. "This world suits you, Melanie, daughter of Ander. But you are Maelith of Lindon once again," he observed. Her eyes widened, and he chuckled, "I made no mistake bringing you here, child."

Then he let her go and she shook her head as if breaking from a daze. Then with a smile she bounded after the four males and fell in behind Gimli. "One stage of your journey is over, another begins. War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed," Gandalf told them. At the edge of the Forest, they found Hasufel and Arod grazing. But there were five of them now, Maelith realized as Legolas unstrung his bow and returned it to his quiver.

"How will you ride?" Aragorn asked his old friend.

"I have my ways," the wizard assured him, and Maelith noticed that he now wore a gray cloak over his robes. Then he let out a high, warbling whistle that rang across the plains and a second, lower one. He was answered by the deep neigh of a horse. A white stallion galloped over a ridge and Legolas moved forward.

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell," the Elf said.

"Mearas?" Maelith asked softly.

"Wild horses ridden only by the Kings of Rohan. They live as long as men, with the intelligence of humans. It is said they understand the human language," he explained, watching the white stallion in fascination. The creature was the jewel of equine strength, beauty, and grace and had captivated the girl right alongside Legolas.

The stallion slowed to a trot, bowing his head as Gandalf welcomed him, "Shadowfax." Then he told Maelith having heard her question, "He is the Lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers." Then he vaulted onto the bare white back and Maelith blinked in surprise. "Come. We must ride with the wind," the wizard ordered. Immediately Legolas swung into Arod's saddle and Maelith was quick to follow after she helped Gimli up behind Aragorn.

They'd been riding for a while before Maelith asked, "Where is it we go?"

"Edoras, the city of Rohan," Legolas replied. She nodded into his shoulder then glanced over at Gimli. A laugh bubbled in her throat and escaped easily. Gimli was slumped against Aragorn's back, sleeping soundly, and she realized that the man had tied the Dwarf to him.

"Ah, the laugh of an Elf is a joyous sound," Gandalf remarked, and she saw the smile in his eyes. She did not see the smile on Legolas's face, though Aragorn did and guessed correctly at the cause. But he kept quiet.

They rode on, slowing their speed as the sky darkened above them. Gandalf's staff lit up a path before them and he took the lead. Shadowfax could see better than the other two horses, just as the Elves could see better than the others. Gimli slept through the night.

When the Dwarf woke the next morning to find himself tied to Aragorn, he sputtered and grumbled. Untying himself with a huff, he glared at Maelith as she giggled. That only made her full out laugh, and Gimli's glare faded as he heard her. "Even the Dwarf cannot deny the beauty of an Elven laugh," Gandalf observed. Legolas smirked as Aragorn chuckled, but Gimli could not argue.

Just beyond the crest of a hill some two hours later, they came to a stop. Before them rose the rocky, round peak of a small mountain. Surrounded by a wall, the mountain was covered in houses of the city. Standing at the top of the hill was the largest of the buildings, and Maelith assumed that to be the house of the lord of the city. "Edoras, home of the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Sarumon's hold over Théoden is now very strong," Gandalf told them.

"Will you break it?" Maelith asked quietly.

"That is my plan, my dear," he replied. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here," the wizard cautioned, spurring Shadowfax forward.

"Maelith, do not let them know you are warrior," Legolas murmured as they galloped towards the walled city. "Let them think you a lady," he added. She nodded, whispering her agreement for his ears only. Then they had ridden through the gates, and Maelith looked around as the horses walked up the hill.

The people kept their distance, their eyes cold and their faces grim. There was an air of grief and sorrow mingled with anger and suffering that Maelith did not like at all. "You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli observed quietly. At the base of the stairs to the Golden Hall, two young boys took their horses and Shadowfax followed. Maelith fell in beside Aragorn as they climbed the stairs, for she did not know the customs of the people in this city.

At the top of the stairs, a guard said, "I cannot allow you before Théoden, King, so armed Gandalf Grayhame. By order of Grimma Wormtongue." Gandalf nodded, then nodded to either side of him. Two guards moved forward, one taking Maelith's entire quiver and her bow. Then she watched as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli made it clear they were very skilled warriors. She saw the second guard swallow when Legolas unsheathed his knives, spinning them before he handed them over. To hide her smirk she turned away and gazed out over the plains. Once all weapons had been handed over, the guard reminded Gandalf, "Your staff."

"Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" the wizard asked. The guard gave him a look that said I know what you're doing, but turned to lead the way in anyway. Gandalf followed, winking at Aragorn and Maelith. With a slight smirk, Aragorn offered Maelith his arm, and she took it quietly. Gandalf was leaning on Legolas's arm more convincingly, though the hunters knew he did not require assistance.

Inside, Maelith quickly scanned the throne room, counting guards before the doors closed behind them. They all turned, and Maelith let go of Aragorn to move behind Gandalf. She was not surprised to see more dirty thuggish men than formally armored guards. "The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," Gandalf said, his voice ringing through the hall.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Théoden managed to ask. The wrinkled old man with frizzy white hair and an unkempt beard did not look like a King to Maelith.

The pale man with greasy black hair beside the throne could only be described as a snake. Then he proved it by standing and saying, "Late is the hour this conjurer chooses to appear." Maelith stopped listening to the man in favor of eyeing servants standing between columns. They would pose no threat.

"Be silent!" Gandalf snapped at Wormtongue. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth," he ordered furiously. "I have no passed through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm," he snarled, raising his staff towards the man's gray face.

Wormtongue stepped back, swallowing, and he said, "Stop." Then louder he called, "I told you to take the wizard's staff." As the thugs charged forward, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas stepped up to Gandalf's defense, punching and throwing the thugs away with ease. Maelith did not fight, but followed Gandalf, waiting.

"Théoden, son of Thengel!" the wizard called. Maelith ducked a punch from one the thugs and Aragorn slammed him to the ground. "Too long have you sat in the shadows," Gandalf said gently. Théoden turned away, cowering in his throne.

With a furious snarl, Gimli planted his foot on Wormtongue's chest. "I would stay still if I were you," he growled.

Gandalf raised his hand, and murmured, "I release you from the spell."

Maelith's eyes narrowed when the ill king laughed. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Gray," he told the wizard, and Maelith stepped forward. Gandalf threw off his gray cloak, and as soon as it landed in Maelith's arms she backed away. The effect was instantaneous.

Light shone throughout the hall and Théoden was thrown back against his throne. "I will draw you, Sarumon, as poison is drawn from a wound," Gandalf the White growled. He moved closer and Théoden was pushed up against his throne again.

A pale woman with long blonde hair darted forward, only for Aragorn to catch her arm. "Wait," he ordered. His black garb made the woman's white dress seem all the brighter. Maelith risked a glance at her, took in her fair, healthy, and well off state and knew her for a Lady, or perhaps a Princess of Rohan.

"If I go, Théoden dies," a voice hissed from the king's lips. But Maelith knew it was not Théoden speaking.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf growled, using his staff to throw Théoden against his throne again.

"Rohan is mine," Sarumon snarled, forcing Théoden to fight the power of Gandalf.

"Be gone," Gandalf ordered. Théoden leaped forward, and with a flare of white light, Gandalf forced him back. Maelith winced and Gandalf relaxed, sighing with the effort the magic had taken.

On his throne, Théoden sagged, and the woman darted forward. She caught the king and helped him sit up then watched in joyous amazement. For Théoden's eyes were clearing. As they watched, his long hair shortened and colored to slightly gray blonde. His skin regained a healthy tan, and Maelith smiled. "I know your face," Théoden, King of Rohan, said. His brow furrowed, and then he smiled. "Eowen," he remembered. The woman broke into a tearful smile, gently touching the King's cheek.

The Théoden turned to the throne room. His eyes found the wizard clad in white and he realized, "Gandalf."

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf suggested kindly. Théoden stood, and Gandalf backed down the stairs.

Behind them, the servants and the guards bowed, smiling with the return on their king. But Théoden looked uncertain, and he said, "Dark have been my dreams of late." He raised a hand, staring confusedly at his palm.

"Your fingers would remember their own strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf told him. The words were an invitation, an order, and a cue. For the captain from the door brought forward the Royal sword of Rohan. He offered it to the King, who grasped first the pommel. Then his fingers wrapped around the handle and he drew the shining blade.

Then a look of rage came over his face. "Where is the snake who poisoned me?" he demanded.

"Here, your majesty," Gimli said, and the King looked to see the black man held firmly in the Dwarf's grasp.

"Expel him from this hall immediately!" Théoden ordered. A guard and the captain seized the traitor with hidden glee and dragged him to the door. Théoden and Gandalf followed, the wizard much more placid than the King. The others moved after them, the Lady and the Elven girl moving to the edge of the balcony. Legolas and Gimli shadowed the women, standing on either side of them as they watched Théoden bear down on Wormtongue.

"I've only ever served you, my lord," Wormtongue protested, crawling backwards down the stairs.

"Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast," Théoden snarled. At the bottom of the stairs, the people of the little city gathered, blocking Wormtongue's retreat.

"Send me not from your side," the snake pleaded.

In his fury, the King was strong, and he swung his blade up to deliver the killing stroke. But Aragorn was there, catching Théoden's arms. "No, my lord, no my lord," he said, fighting the King back. Maelith knew the others did not hear, but she and Legolas heard as Aragorn said, "Let him go. Enough blood has been spilled on his account." Maelith's fingers ached for her bow as she watched Wormtongue shove his way through the people, but she did not move. "Hail, Théoden, King!" Aragorn shouted to the people, and they quickly knelt. Then Aragorn knelt, bowing his head before the King. Only Gandalf did not bow his head.

Alongside Maelith, Eowen was crying. "Now I must tell him his son is to be buried at dawn and his nephew banished," the Lady whispered.

"He must hear it from you," Maelith told her gently.

The Lady nodded, her shoulders straightening as tears fell. "I will have someone show you to the guest quarters," she said.

"Thank you," Maelith dipped her head and Eowen turned in a swirl of white.

Aragorn had returned to them when an older maid hurried out. "I will show you to your quarters, sirs, miss," she said. But they were stopped in the hall by the captain. One either side of him, four guards held their weapons. Without speaking, they four reclaimed them but did not don them. The woman hurried down a hallway hung with blue banners, and Maelith recognized it as one of the four to hang behind the throne. "The sirs are here," she told them, gesturing to an oaken door. "The lady is here," she added, opening a door just across the hall. "Someone will come to show you to the baths, sirs."

"Thank you," Maelith murmured when the men did not speak. Gimli had in fact already disappeared inside their room.

"A bath has already been drawn for you, miss," the woman murmured, glancing nervously at Aragorn and Legolas.

"Again, my thanks. Would you be so kind as to tell Gandalf where we are quartered?" the girl replied. The woman nodded, her eyes wide, before she scurried back down the hall. "Must you intimidate everyone we meet?" she asked, turning to the two warriors. Aragorn just chuckled as Legolas smiled deviously. She shook her head and slipped into her room, finding a steaming bath and a deep green dress behind a wooden screen. Someone had told the servants that Elves did not sleep, for they had not bothered to give her night clothes. After her bath, she dried off and dressed. But once again she could not lace up the back of the bodice. With a sigh, she re-clasped her pendant about her neck and returned her ring to her right hand

There was a knock, and the maid woman called, "My lady?"

"Please, come in," Maelith called, sighing in relief. The woman found her seated before a small vanity table, brushing her long chocolate hair. With deft, practiced hands, the dress was tied moments later. Maelith felt her hands still and looked up in the mirror, confused. The woman was staring at her hair, her fingers hovering over the locks. "You might touch it if you were to wish," she told the woman gently.

"Thank you, my lady," the old woman gently lifted a tiny lock, running her withered hand over it. Then she was gone.

Maelith looked around after she'd left to find her clothes on the bed. They'd been washed and smelt faintly of smoke, so she guessed they'd been hung near a fire to dry. Hiking up her skirt, she pulled on her long socks and leggings, then shoved her feet into her boots. When she opened the door, she found Legolas waiting for her. He walked with her back to the hall, where they joined Aragorn and Gimli for a meal of stew and bread. But Maelith cared more about the water than the food. She ate only half of her meal, then handed it over to Gimli and relaxed in her seat. Aragorn clapped her gently on the shoulder when he left, nodding goodnight to Legolas and Gimli.

When Gimli finished, the two Elves walked with him back to their rooms, and he bid them goodnight around a wide yawn. Maelith smiled fondly after him before she turned away. She'd expected Legolas to go after Gimli, but instead he caught her arm. "Maelith," he murmured, turning her back around. Fearing he would see her pain if she met his eyes, she lowered her head and let her hair fall around her face. But of course he noticed and gently moved her hair behind her ear to lift her chin.

Panic flared in her eyes and she jerked back, her breath catching. Hurt and confusion darkened Legolas's eyes as he withdrew his hand. "What is wrong?" he asked her softly. "Maelith, tell me what is upsetting you so," he requested, searching her eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's just a memory," she told him. She didn't notice that she'd reverted to human style speech, but he did.

He sighed, using his hold on her wrist to pull her closer. Moving slowly, and holding her gaze as he did, he wrapped his arms around her. "Hurt you I will not, Maelith," he promised. Then he assured her, "Get to you here whoever hurt you cannot."

"I know. You I trust, Legolas," she murmured, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

"Rest, mellon ni. I will be here when you wake," he whispered, letting her go. She nodded and vanished into her room, leaving the Elf to face a still awake Aragorn.

"Be patient with her. She is very young, for all her seriousness. There is a heavy burden on her shoulders," the man cautioned his friend. Legolas nodded, his eyes lost in thought, and Aragorn knew the Elf would be careful.

Maelith lay curled on her side in her bed, though she was wide awake. Behind her unfocused eyes, her mind was in chaos, a swirl of memories, pain, sorrow, and fear. She knew she had to tell Legolas eventually, he deserved an explanation. But she had not expected it to be him.

"_There will be a man, brave and good, who can banish the fears deep in your heart. He will be fierce and loyal and skilled, full of honor and nobility. It will be his gentleness to unlock the memories they forced you to bury. But be warned, Maelith of Lindon, it will be a risk to his life to free you," Galadriel had told her as they'd sailed away from Loriel. "In time, you will remember, my dear."_

She'd thought it to be Aragorn, not Legolas. But out there, in the hallway, he'd caused a flashback. Galadriel had said it would be a man. Could she have meant not a human man and used man as a general term? Legolas was certainly a man, if an Elven one. He was good and brave and strong and loyal and protective and…Maelith slapped a hand over her eyes. It wasn't Aragorn at all.

The next morning, Maelith rose before the sun. She'd managed to rest the entire night, her realization putting her mind to ease. So now she braided her hair out of her face, styling it once again in the four braids. Then she joined her friends for a simple, somber breakfast.

At dawn, she went with Legolas and Gimli to the funeral of Rohan's prince. They were all quiet and respectful, and did not stay long. They had no place there. But many hours later, when Gandalf and Théoden carried in two weary, dirty, and hungry children, Maelith was quick to help. She brought them each a hastily scooped bowl of stew from the pot in the center of the hall, receiving a nod of thanks from Eowen as she spoke to the children. Then the Elven girl retreated to the table where Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn waited. "They had no warning, they were unarmed," Eowen told her uncle.

Théoden was sitting on his throne, Gandalf beside him, weary with grief and now the news of war on his kingdom. "Now the Wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go," the Lady added. "Rick, cart, and tree."

"Where is Mama?" the little girl asked as Eowen draped a blanket about her shoulders. Maelith did not even notice that she had clenched her fist in anger until Legolas took her hand. He was running his thumb over the back of her knuckles until her fingers relaxed.

There was understanding in his eyes as they listened to Gandalf say, "This is but a taste of the terror Sarumon will unleash. All the more potent, for he is driven by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king," Aragorn spoke up. His voice was level and calm as he twirled a pipe in his fingers.

Théoden stood, walking down onto the hall floor as he replied, "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now." The King was clearly torn as he paced and realized, "Eomer cannot help us." Gandalf hurried from his seat, but was stopped when Théoden said, "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

Aragorn took the pipe from his mouth and pointed out, "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

Théoden's eyes darkened, and he glared at Aragorn as he approached. Legolas tensed beside Maelith, his hands dropping to his sides as the King snapped, "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan." Aragorn held Théoden's gaze evenly, not rising to the challenge. Across the table, Gimli lowered his tankard, revealing ale spilling down his thick beard, and belched.

"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asked.


	7. Fallen

**AN: First off; thanks to Dark Lady, Bigun, Alexma, and the three guests who reviewed! Second, to the guest who said, "You're getting a lot of the names wrong. It's balrog and Galadriel. And the dialogue you're taking from the movie script isn't even written correctly;" your review prompted me to go back and find some mistakes I'd overlooked, so thanks. But as for the dialogue, I don't have the script, only the movie itself, and I can't always get the words right because I can't understand what they're saying. Plus, some things I'm leaving out, others I added for my own character. It's a fanfiction; not the movie script.**

Chapter 7

"Helm's Deep," Gandalf scoffed, striding furiously down the hill to the stables. The four followed, only Aragorn walking at the wizard's side. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight," he growled. Villagers turned to get out of the wizard's way, casting confused and fearful looks at him. The Elves passed by them next, earning suspicious and awed glances. Gandalf swept into the stable with Aragorn, and Maelith heard him demand, "Who will protect them if not their king?"

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn reminded him. Compared to the wizard's rolling fury and frustration, Aragorn's anger was quiet and calm, though it was there in his posture. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

"There is no way out of that place. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety, what they will get is massacre," Gandalf told Aragorn. Maelith and Gimli both glanced at Legolas, but the Elf was quiet, as usual. Maelith had learned that he did not speak unless the words were truly worth saying. Then Gandalf lowered his voice, and Maelith turned away, trying her best to ignore the pair already in the stable. But as they entered, she could not ignore the galloping of hooves, and Legolas stepped aside, shouldering her out of the way. Gandalf and Shadowfax flew by, leaving the four hunters once more.

Aragorn strode out of the stable, his face closed and eyes betraying none of his inner thoughts. Legolas moved to Arod, brushing the white horse down before he tacked him up. Maelith did the same for Hasufel, knowing Aragorn would not have time when he returned. She tacked up the brown gelding as fast as she could then hiked up her blue skirt and ran back to the hall, still needing to change for the journey. It did not take long for her to fight her way free of the dress and shift and she was glad to be rid of them. Redressing took even less time, for she was used to pulling on the long black socks, gray leggings, dark green tunic, and the fitted brown jerkin. Her Elven cloak and gray boots went on last, though she was sliding her quiver into place as she ran back down the stairs to the stable.

There she found not Gimli with Legolas, but the King being ignored by the Elf. Legolas was stiff and the set of his shoulders told Maelith that he was angry. She intended to go to her friend and calm him, but the King stopped her. "You carry your weapons as if you expect the enemy to strike any second," he told her. He paused to swing into his saddle, then asked, "Do you truly think you will go to battle, you, a woman?"

Anger flared in Maelith's eyes, because now her mind was flooded with Melanie's memories. The girl had always been told she could not go somewhere, could not do something, just because she was a girl. That had been different for Maelith. Legolas and Aragorn had not tried to keep her from fighting. In fact, once they'd seen that she could handle herself, they'd entrusted her with their own weapons. But before she could reply, Legolas came to her defense. His eyes were cold and furious as he snapped, "She has proven herself in battle. After everything we have been through, she is worthy to guard our backs." Maelith was slightly awed to see him so alive in her honor. Her eyes flicked up, taking in Legolas in his anger. The Elf reminded her of the wind; light and fair. But the wind was both a summer breeze, warm and gentle; a winter gale, cold and biting; and a wild tornado, harsh and deadly. Then Legolas's eyes flicked over to her, and the look in his eyes changed. Maelith saw the fury fade to be replaced by something she could not name before he looked back to the king. "She may be fair and beautiful as a white rose, but sharp are her thorns," he added coldly.

Clearly the king was not accustomed to being addressed so, for he replied, "I see." Then he spurred his horse forward, forcing Maelith to step aside or be flattened by his white stallion.

When he was gone, Maelith took only two steps to grab Legolas's arm. He had turned away, but looked down at her now. "Do you truly believe me worthy?" she asked quietly.

"Proven yourself to me you have," he told her, covering her hand on his arm with his own. To her surprise, he leaned his forehead down against hers, and their eyes met. "Though," he added thoughtfully, "I would rather you be only my white rose."

Her breath caught in his boldness and a small smile graced her lips. "I already am," she murmured. Without realizing she'd even moved, she'd placed her hands on his chest, his heart thumping beneath her palm. There was only inches between their lips now, and she was sure he was going to kiss her, only for a horn to sound outside. They stepped apart, both of them sighing, and Legolas vaulted into the saddle. He offered his hand, though they both knew she didn't need it, and she took it with a soft smile. But he didn't release her once she was mounted. Instead he let her slip her arm around him and intertwined their fingers, covering her hand where it rested on his ribs.

He didn't let her go until he dropped from the saddle around midday to scout along the trail. When he came back, she was leading Arod with two small girls in the saddle. So he slipped in beside her and they walked the rest of the day, leading the column. Behind them, Eowyn had opted to walk, leading her horse as Gimli rode in her saddle. Maelith was clearly preoccupied, though Legolas didn't mind, for he was not one of many words. Suddenly she called behind her, "Gimli, do Dwarf women fight?"

"Oh, yes, lass. Our women are just as fierce as our men. If we men are the metals we mine, our women are the jewels we cut; sharp and beautiful and hard to get," the Dwarf told her. She smiled, hearing Aragorn chuckle at the last bit, and glanced up at the two girls. The younger, barely five, was asleep as she leaned against the eight year old's chest. The elder returned her smile and Maelith saw not fear and despair as she did in the adults' eyes but hope and the excitement of adventure.

"I've never seen a Dwarf woman," Eowyn said, looking up at Gimli.

"It's true, you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they're so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men," the stout warrior replied, chuckling.

Maelith looked back at them, smiling, and heard Aragorn whisper to Eowyn, "It's the beards." Maelith couldn't help the soft laugh when the man mimed a long beard. Above her, the girl was gazing at the Elves in wonder, fascinated by Legolas's silvery hair and Maelith's bell like voice.

"In turn, this has led to the belief that there are no Dwarf women, and that Dwarves just spring up out of holes in the ground," Gimli went on, oblivious to Aragorn. When Maelith laughed again, Eowyn laughed with her. "Which is of course ridiculous," Gimli laughed. Eowyn's horse neighed and surged forward, breaking free of the lady's hand. Scurrying out of the way, villagers gave the Dwarf odd and curious looks, one older woman gasping as the horse went passed. The dwarf lasted all of three strides at a canter before he toppled from the saddle. End over end, the axe in his hand went flying, to land in the grass nearby. "It's alright, nobody panic," Gimli coughed from where he lay on his back.

Laughing, Maelith passed off the reins to Legolas and jogged after Eowyn's dark mare. Innocent as a baby bird, the horse stood cropping grass, her ears flicking as Maelith picked up her reins from the ground. Gimli did not return to the saddle until Eowyn mounted before him. They rode together for the rest of the afternoon, and Eowyn's laugh constantly floated through the air to Maelith's ears. The girls' mother, a weary woman with a baby strapped to her chest and a basket tied on her back, gratefully took the girls back when they made camp for the night. Maelith smiled, lifting the girls down from the saddle and walking them to their elder brother. Then she gathered as many children as she could, sat them down in the grass around a rock, and started to tell them stories.

Legolas watched from nearby as she gestured and the kids laughed. She was telling them a story about the princess Cinderella and her mice friends, her eyes sparkling in the firelight. One of the children spoke, and she laughed, looking up as she did. Their eyes met and Legolas realized how much she enjoyed being with these children. Her laugh faded to be replaced by a shy smile and she ducked her head. A little girl caught her attention then, and she smiled, nodding. Gimli dropped into the grass beside Legolas, listening with a smile as Maelith told of a fierce prince and sleeping Princess Aurora. "She's good for you, lad," the Dwarf told him.

"She makes me feel young, Gimli, and I want so badly to teach her about my people," the Elf replied quietly.

"She makes you want to share your world with her, doesn't she?" Aragorn asked from behind them. He sat on Legolas's other side, his hand hovering over the pendent he wore.

The fair archer nodded, his eyes fixed on the girl as she encouraged some of the children how to act out her story. "Come, Freda, you be the princess," the Elven girl suggested to the little girl who'd ridden to Edoras with her brother. The men watched her play with the kids, and Aragorn glanced over to see an actual smile on Legolas's face. Just the fact that it was an actual smile, not just a smirk, told the man everything he needed to know.

Maelith hadn't meant to be distracted. But when she's felt someone watching, she couldn't help look up. Her eyes immediately found Legolas's gaze and suddenly she was shy. Bright and eerie in the dancing firelight, Legolas's expression was impossible to read. Then she heard the three talking. Faltering as she spoke, she went on with the story as the kids acted it. All she could do was keep her back to them and hope the kids couldn't see something on her face.

Eventually, parents and older siblings came to reclaim their little ones. Maelith watched them all leave, kneeling for those that ran back to hug her or thank her. When they were all gone, Maelith joined the men, sitting on Aragorn's other side. She lay back in the grass, her quiver resting beside her with her bow in her hand. Seemingly relaxed, the three men knew she was on high alert even as she gazed up at the stars. Aragorn and Gimli dozed off later in the night, neither ever really falling asleep.

Morning came cold and wet. Once again Maelith lifted the two girls into her saddle, though Legolas led Arod this time. Maelith was leading the old brown horse Freda and her brother were riding. Unsurprisingly, Legolas did not last long and handed over Arod's reins to scout ahead. She found herself watching as he ran up a hill and realized something was wrong. As the two captains went trotting by her, she stopped the brown and white horses. "Girls, get down. I need to ride after my friend. Eothain, be a good man and lead your sister for me," she requested. Immediately the sisters slid down, and Maelith lifted the five year old up behind Freda. The elder two siblings walked on either side as she watched Legolas leap down the other side of the hill.

A growl and men yelling reached Maelith's ears, and Aragorn ran by her. "Gimli, get up! Go to Legolas!" she ordered, holding Arod before the Dwarf.

"Come on, get me up there, I'm a rider," the Dwarf snarled at three soldiers as they lifted him. Maelith danced impatiently, and as soon as Gimli was steady she let go and ran.

"What is it? What do you see?" Théoden called to Aragorn as the king rode towards him.

The warrior was running back down the hill, his face grim. Maelith had dubbed that look his battle face, and her stomach sank. There were elderly and young everywhere; Sarumon was clever in his attacks. "Wargs! We're under attack!" Aragorn yelled. Panic ensued almost immediately and Théoden started calling orders. Maelith ran after Aragorn, intending to ride with him, but instead she found Eowyn with her mare.

"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep," the king told Eowyn as Maelith ran forward towards Aragorn. "Make haste," he ordered.

"I can fight!" Eowyn protested to her uncle.

"No!" When Eowyn went to argue, he said, "You must do this, for me."

Eowyn sighed and handed her reins to Maelith. "Head for the lower ground!" she called to the people around her as Maelith swung into the saddle. "Stay together!"

Using her legs as she loaded her bow, Maelith drove the mare forward after the riders. She could see Aragorn fighting his horse, watching Eowyn take charge. "Aragorn!" Maelith yelled. "They need you!" The warrior's gaze was ripped from Eowyn and he spun Hasufel around to gallop after the King. Leaning forward in the saddle, Maelith saw Legolas swing from the ground into Arod's saddle, sparing just a moment to be impressed. As she crested the hill, Maelith drew the string back and took aim at the first uruh-kai she saw. The specially bred orcs were riding horse sized dogs that fought even without riders. So she aimed for the dogs instead; the uruk-hais were easier to fight.

But she could not shoot the wargs with riders getting in the way. So she spurred the mare down the hill, reaching for another arrow over her shoulder even as she spotted Eowyn's sword. The weapon rested in a scabbard on the saddle, within easy reach for the Elf. But she didn't have time to draw it before the warg leaped. The mare shied, jerking sideways, and the Warg sailed through the air where Maelith had been a second before. Its huge paw clipped her bow, knocking it clean it from her hand. She yelped and yanked her hand back, her fingers stinging.

Eowyn's mare reared, spinning on her hind legs to face the warg, and Maelith was impressed. She hadn't even cued the horse to turn, and she'd done it. Then Maelith realized the sword was just in front of her and her hand closed around the hilt. The warg leaped again, and Maelith yanked the sword free, cueing the mare to sidestep as she did. Flashing silver, the blade arced through the air as the warg went by, and the gray body thumped to the ground. The beast's head had been cleaved open by her stroke and she blanched. Only a glimpse of him firing from Arod's saddle assured her that Legolas was alive and Gimli's indignant roar called out his position to her as she fended off an orc. "That one counts as mine!" the Dwarf snapped. Had she been able to, Maelith would have laughed; the Dwarf and the Elf had started a challenge against the other. It was a contest to see who could kill the most orcs in each battle. Last time she'd heard, Legolas was winning.

She didn't see Aragorn until he threw the spear into a warg crouched over Gimli. He galloped by her, cutting off the head of an orc running at her from behind. After that, Maelith was too busy trying to lift an orc and two wargs off Gimli while defending the two of them from the ground. Once he was free, he pushed by her to hurry back into the fighting. But the closest things to them were dead and wounded bodies, men and horses, orcs and wargs. Walking back up the hill, Maelith reclaimed her bow from the grass and was relieved to find it undamaged. The attack was over; the surviving orc riders had fled back into the hills.

Nearby, a wounded Rohanian was sitting up, and Maelith knelt beside him to help him stand up. He had suffered only a minor wound, four claw made slashes in his lower thigh. He thanked her quietly, then limped down the hill. Instead of following him, Maelith looked around for her friends and made her way to Legolas. "Are you wounded?" he asked softly as she joined him.

"No, and you?" she replied, slinging her bow over her shoulder.

He shook his head, though she suspected that even if he were to be hurt, he would not tell her. Then he looked around and she followed as he strode up the next hill. "Aragorn?" he called.

"Aragorn, where are you?" Maelith yelled.

Gimli looked around, hearing their yells, but he could not see the dark haired warrior either. "Aragorn?" he shouted.

Legolas strode up the rocky hill and Maelith hurried after him. As he knelt, she stood between the bodies of two orcs, looking over the battleground for their friend. The one to her right suddenly drew a ragged breath, and she leaped away. It laughed, painfully and choking, and Legolas turned. Hate and anger flared in the Elf's eyes, but Gimli beat him to the orc. He leveled his axe, already stained with warg blood, in the orc's face and snarled, "Tell me what happened to him and I will ease your passing."

"He's dead," the dying creature laughed cruelly. Gimli stepped back, lowering his axe as the orc sneered triumphantly, "He took a little tumble of the cliff." Standing beside Maelith, Théoden turned towards the cliff and hurried to the top to look down.

Legolas leaned down as the monster laughed, grabbing it by the front of its disgusting uniform. "You lie," he snarled. But the monster just laughed and died. Legolas dropped it then took something from the creature's disgusting hand. He held it out and the three recognized Aragorn's pendant. The Elf's shoulders sagged and then he got to his feet. Gimli and Maelith followed his as he moved to the edge of the cliff. Any hope they had that Aragorn had survived the fall was dashed when they saw the foaming river below them. Grief washed over the three and when Maelith risked a glance at Legolas, she nearly cried. She never wanted to see that expression of failure, grief, and hopelessness on his face again.

"Get the wounded on horses," Théoden called down the hill. "The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead," he ordered. Legolas whipped around, tearing his gaze from the river to stare at the king. If he was feeling anything like Maelith at that remark, he was shocked, angry, and incredulous. The king did not justify himself as he met the Elf's eyes, and Legolas looked away when the man placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Come," he ordered gently.

Gimli walked away after the king first. "Legolas," Maelith murmured. He looked at her and a tear rolled down her cheek. The pain and grief in his eyes twisted the knife already buried in her heart with the loss of Aragorn. "It is up to us now," she sighed, the words like acid in her mouth.

"I know, Maelith," he sighed, slipping the pendant into his pocket. He took her hand and finally noticed the sword in her grasp.

She tracked his gaze to it and explained quietly, "It was on Eowyn's saddle." He nodded and they followed after Gimli with one last pained look at the river. Arod was easy to find, his white coat stuck out like a beacon. Legolas swung into his saddle and a soldier helped Gimli up. Maelith was returning the sword to Eowyn's scabbard and taking the weapon to return to its owner, then passed the mare off to carry a wounded man. Someone had caught Aragorn's horse, Hasufel, so Maelith took him instead, wiping a tear away as she picked up his reins and stuck the scabbard through a strap.

When Théoden finally rode out, the two Elves rode on one side, his captain on the other. Soldiers who could led their wounded comrades, and Maelith could practically carry the defeat it was so heavy in the air around her. No one spoke until the stone fortress in the mountain came into sight. Even then, it was only sighs of relief from the soldiers.

Guards over the gate opened the gates before they'd even reached the base of the ramp. Shouts of "Make way for the King!" sounded above them and refugees hastily pressed back against the walls. Théoden led them up another ramp inside the wall to a courtyard. Soldiers caught the horses as Eowyn ran forward.

Théoden dismounted, facing his niece as she scanned the returning riders. "So few," she realized. "So few of you have returned," she said it like a statement, but her eyes spoke questions in volumes.

"Our people are safe," Théoden replied. He turned to help down a wounded soldier as Maelith swung down behind him to do the same. With shaking fingers Maelith released Eowyn's sword from Aragorn's saddle and stuck it through her belt. As he caught the man, he turned back to Eowyn and said, "We have paid for it with many lives."

Maelith watched with tears in her eyes as Gimli approached Eowyn. All of them had seen how the lady felt about Aragorn. "My lady," the Dwarf caught her attention and Eowyn turned instantly.

"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" she asked.

Gimli hesitated, and Maelith felt her eyes spill over. "He fell," Gimli choked out. Eowyn's eyes went wide with tears and she turned to look at her uncle. The king met her eyes and turned away, leaving Eowyn to sink to her knees as tears ran down her face. Maelith couldn't help it; she darted over to the lady and gently helped her stand. Offering the woman her sword back made Eowyn's eyes harden with determination behind the tears. Her hand closed on the proffered hilt and Maelith knew she would be okay.

They all would grieve for Aragorn, but they would fight. They had to keep going. They didn't have the choice.


	8. Deepen

**Author's Note: thanks to Dark Lady and Leena for reviewing. Lady, yep pretty much. Leena, let me know where you see mistakes! I'd really appreciate the help so I can make this even better!**

Chapter 8

Darkness had seeped into the dawn the next morning. Shadowy clouds cut across the horizon, threatening rain. In the isolation of the mountain fortress, the sun rose silently, the birds too far away to sing their songs. The hills were bare, the plains still.

Within the fortress of the Hornburg, there was far more noise. Smithies were ringing with the forging of weapons. Mothers shushed their crying babies as grandmothers called their older grandchildren. Neighing and snorting horses called to each other from makeshift stables. Armor clinked and clanked as the soldiers shifted positions on the walls, hurried up and down the stairs, and patrolled the walkways of the fortress.

Maelith was oblivious to it all. She sat balanced over the gate, her position so precarious that none of the guards around her dared speak or move closer. They weren't even sure which of the Elves it was, whether it was the man or the woman. Both of them were tall and lean with long hair and the same angular, pale faces. Sharp, bright, almost eerie blue eyes saw everything and the pointed ears caught every sound. Especially confusing to the human men was the fact that the female went about armed the same way as the male. Most of the men had not seen the two together, and could not distinguish the differences in weapons or clothing between the two. They had also yet to realize that the woman had long brown hair while the man wore his silvery hair much shorter. Had they known the differences, they would have known it was the female wrapped in a green cloak and hooded against the chill on the wall.

Movement. There, far off, on the crest of the hill where Helm's Deep came into view. She waited until she could make out the shape of a horse and rider before she bolted to her feet on the ledge. Behind her, the guards jumped; she'd startled them all apparently. "Prepare to open the gates," she ordered. Behind a cold façade, she was elated. She knew exactly who that rider was.

"Why should we take orders from you?" one cocky soldier asked, swaggering up to her.

She had a knife to his throat before he'd registered that she was turning. All the guards shifted back and the one she had transfixed swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You personally will open the gates because that is Lord Aragorn riding towards us. Though I would very much enjoy pitching your arrogant ass over wall, I would rather greet the friend I thought was dead than explain myself to Théoden," she said calmly.

"Yes ma'am," he stuttered.

Disgusted, she shoved him away and turned to run down the nearest stairs. She was waiting for Aragorn when the gates opened and she jogged ahead of the dark brown horse he was riding. "Make way for Lord Aragorn!" she called up the walkways. Muttering and amazed, people backed out of the way until Aragorn drew to a halt in the courtyard. Instantly Maelith was there, holding the horse's halter as the warrior dismounted. Once his feet were firmly on the ground, Aragorn found himself pulled into a gentle hug. "Gimli is going to kill you," Maelith murmured, overjoyed. He huffed good-naturedly and hugged her, pressing a fatherly kiss to her forehead when she stepped back. To his surprise, she offered him his Elven knife. "I took it from the chest of the orc you stabbed," she explained, shrugging.

"Where is he? Where is he? Get out of the way. I'm gonna kill him!" Gimli's gruff voice could be heard before the Dwarf shoved his way into view. He took in Aragorn's haggard, wet, torn, and filthy appearance and said, "You are the luckiest, the cunningest, the most reckless man I ever knew." Maelith smiled as Gimli hugged Aragorn around the middle. "Bless you, laddie," the Dwarf sounded like he might actually cry as he spoke.

Aragorn did not let the red haired warrior hug him for long. He placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Gimli, where is the King?" The Dwarf nodded towards the main keep and Maelith started that way. She knew the way to the hall where Théoden held his war council, if only to avoid the king and his captains.

Aragorn followed her, and she saw Legolas waiting before the throne room. Sidestepping the Elf she pivoted to stand at his shoulder as Aragorn nearly walked into him. Blue-gray eyes met Elven blue and Legolas said, "Le abdollen." 'You're late.' Then the Elf actually looked at Aragorn and took in the ripped clothes, bedraggled hair, and dirt streaked face. He added, "You look terrible."

To Maelith's relief, Aragorn cracked a smile and laughed, putting his hand on the Elf's shoulder. Legolas pulled something from his pocket and offered his hand to the man. Aragorn held up a bloody and dirty palm, and the archer placed the silver and white pendant in it. The ranger looked up, his wary, but Legolas only replied with a small smile. "Hannon le," the ranger said, clearly relieved to have it back. 'I thank you.' Nodding, Legolas and Maelith parted, stepping to either side to leave the doors clear for their friend. They watched proudly, and with smug smiles, as Aragorn shoved open the double doors.

"Lord Aragorn, you're alive!" Théoden stood in disbelief, but Aragorn wasted no time on formalities. Legolas and Maelith followed him inside, glancing about the room distastefully as they strode across the stone floor. Behind them, Gimli could appreciate the high arching ceilings and the columns

"A great host of orcs is marching on Helm's Deep as we speak," the heir of Gondor announced.

"Close the doors," Théoden barked to a guard at the doors. He paced twice down the length of the tables then asked, "A great host you say?" He stood with his back turned, leaving Aragorn to speak to the embroidered green cloak he wore.

"All of Isengard is emptied," Aragorn told him.

"How many?" the king asked thoughtfully.

"Ten thousand strong at least," the ranger replied.

"Ten thousand?" Théoden apparently could not believe that such a number of orcs existed.

"It is an army bred for a single purpose; to destroy the world of men," Aragorn's reply made Théoden's eyes widen, but the king clenched his jaw. Maelith glanced at Legolas, but he was unconcerned, as usual. Instead he was watching Théoden calculatingly. "They will be here by nightfall," Aragorn added.

"Let them come," the king snapped, striding out of the throne hall.

Aragorn's shoulders went back angrily until Maelith and Legolas each put a hand on him. "Helm's Deep cannot fall," he told them quietly. They nodded and fell in behind him as he went after Théoden.

"I want every man and strong lad, able to bear arms, to be ready for battle by nightfall," the king told one of his captains at the base of the wall. He moved between soldiers who were reinforcing the main gate to walk out onto the causeway. Aragorn and Legolas followed Théoden out the gate, looking up at the wall, leaving Gimli and Maelith in the gateway. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg," the Horse-master declared.

"This is no mindless rabble of orcs. These are uruk-hai. Their armor is thick, their shields broad," Gimli pointed out.

The King moved to stand before the Dwarf, glaring at him as he snapped, "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep." Maelith sighed; Théoden was getting on her nerves with the whole, I am King, you are not attitude. Gimli nodded, though he glared out over the causeway as Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder to follow Théoden back inside. Legolas gestured for Maelith to go before him, gazing coldly at the human soldiers. The protective way the Elf watched her made any of the soldiers bold enough to consider making a play for her back off easily. It was pretty clear to them that she was his, and while that might not stop some of them with another soldier's girl, no one wanted to piss off the Elf or Lord Aragorn.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock," Théoden said as the group moved along the top of the second wall of the keep.

"Or they will climb it like fire," Maelith protested.

The king ignored her to say, "Sarumon's hordes will pillage and burn, we have seen it before. Crops can be re-sewn, homes rebuilt. Within these walls we will outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people, down to the last child," Aragorn argued.

The King turned and grabbed Aragorn by the front of his tunic, getting in the warrior's face furiously. He growled in a low voice, "What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would I have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."

"Send out riders, my lord," Aragorn suggested as Théoden went to walk away. The king turned as the ranger continued, "You must call for aid."

Théoden moved back into Aragorn's face, and beside Maelith, Legolas tensed. "And who will come?" the king asked. The words were soft, but full of a challenge. "Elves?" Théoden said the word with such scorn that Maelith stiffened in anger. "Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn told him with absolute certainty.

"Gondor?" Théoden growled, getting right up in Aragorn's face. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was-" Théoden's fury trailed off and he reined himself in. "No, my lord Aragorn. We are alone," he told Aragorn with a note of finality. As he led the way up a set of stairs, he ordered his captain, "Get the women and children into the caves."

"We need more time to lay provisions," the captain protested.

"There is no time," Théoden snapped. "War is upon us."

Maelith glanced back as she heard the caw of a crow and frowned. Crows and ravens were circling in the air above the plains and over the fortress. "I will go," she spoke up. They all turned to her, even Théoden, and she continued, "Running, alone, I have a chance at reaching Lorien and returning with aid before Rohan falls."

"I cannot allow you to do that, Lady Elf," the king sighed.

"I am the only one who can go," she snapped. "There is no explanation you can give me, Théoden King that will convince me I cannot go. I will leave at once," she added calmly. The king nodded coldly and turned away. Lifting her chin, Maelith strode back to the gate, the three men following silently.

"Good luck, lass," Gimli said gruffly. Clearly the Dwarf did not like goodbyes, and Maelith did not blame him. So she stuck out her hand, and he clasped her forearm. He turned away, heading back to the keep, muttering under his breath.

"Go straight north, through the foothills. You'll have to cross Fangorn, so be on guard," Aragorn said, stepping forward. She nodded and he hugged her gently, then followed after Gimli.

Legolas was watching her when she looked back at him. An idea occurred to Maelith and she pulled her pendant from under her shirt. "Will you wear this?" she asked him softly, holding it out to him. He took it, meeting her eyes, and she took a deep breath. "I will come back, Legolas, and you will be here when I do," she told him firmly. He nodded and she stepped closer, pressing the swiftest of kisses to his cheek before she darted out the gate. Slipping the pendant over his head, Legolas watched from the gate as Maelith ran into the hills. He watched until even he could no longer see her.

Maelith ran all the way across Rohan. She avoided the orcs by sound; an army made quite a bit of noise. It wasn't until she reached Fangorn that she grew uneasy. Something had stirred in the darkness here, something ancient and wise and powerful. Ducking beneath a limb draped in a heavy curtain of moss, a whisper of sound caught her attention. So she turned slowly to follow the noise and movement caught her eye. As she watched, a line of Elves walking single file through the forest came into view. Each wore a helm, though each was different in fashion, and carried a curved longbow. They were the longbows of the Lorien Elves. 'War bows.' She didn't know where the name came from, but it was adept. The shorter longbows they'd confronted the Fellowship with had been everyday bows. This was a war party of Galadhrim, sent by Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond.

Even if Maelith hadn't been able to see their faces, she would have known the line was Elves. Each was draped in a dark blue cloak and moved with little sound. Three of the Elves were carrying banners. Maelith had only caught a glimpse of the banners in Lorien, but she recognized the pennant of Celeborn and Galadriel. And she recognized the one different Elf, the one in gold armor with a red cloak. "Haldir!" she called, stepping out of her hiding place. Instantly the line turned to face her, and she found herself confronted by a line of arrows. "Peace, cousins, I was sent to find you by Prince Legolas of Mirkwood," she told them in Sindarin, letting her hood fall back to reveal her face.

The soldiers relaxed when Haldir stepped forward. "Maelith?" he asked, reaching a hand out to help her up from the gully she stood in.

"You are a welcome find," she murmured, taking his hand.

He lifted her up and asked, "How fares the Fellowship?"

She hesitated, but replied honestly, "Boromir of Gondor fell. Frodo and Samwise are making their way to Mount Doom. Gandalf, who is alive, sent Meriadoc and Peregrin with an Ent to keep them safe here in Fangorn. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli await us at Helm's Deep with what is left of the army of Rohan. The refugees outnumber the soldiers by far, and all the young lads will fight. Your force will double ours."

"When are the uruh-kai expected?" Haldir asked, signaling the line to resume their walk. He took everything in stride, calm and unaffected, and for that Maelith was grateful. The humans had run around like chickens with their heads cut off.

"Nightfall," she sighed, falling in beside him.

"Then let us make haste," he suggested and she nodded. He called out, and the line picked up to a jog, the equivalent of a run for humans. Haldir pulled the helm from his head and handed it to Maelith, seeing how she wore no armor, not even gauntlets and she smiled at him. The design was beautiful and deadly looking; the antlers of an elk had been fashioned of the metal and swept backwards, away from the face, creating a wing-like look on either side. She slid the helm on and pulled her hood up over it. Thanking the commander quietly, Maelith fell in behind him and the warrior behind her nodded to her. She was welcome within the ranks of her Silvan cousins.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys; these are no soldiers," Aragorn sighed once he threw a sword down in disappointment.

Legolas and Gimli turned from a rack of hastily made spears so Gimli could point out, "Most have seen too many winters."

His eyes burning with scorn, Legolas added, "Or too few." Aragorn nodded, looking around at the wrinkle-faced men and the smooth faced boys. "Look at them," the Elf continued, his own worry for Maelith and his friends making his words bitter and sharp. He was not used to such feelings before a battle, and fought to retain the cold façade Elves were known for as he snapped, "They're frightened; you can see it in their eyes." All around him, old men turned to look at him and fell silent. Aragorn, holding a shirt of dark mail, looked up too. Legolas turned his back on them then turned back to Aragorn and in Sindarin said to him, "And they should be…three hundred against ten thousand." But the humans heard it as, "Boe a hyn neled herain dan caer menig."

Aragorn sighed and replied, "Si, beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras." Legolas translated easily to "They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras."

Anger and dread darkened Legolas's tone as he answered, "Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir ortheri. Natha daged dhaer!" Aragorn grew angry as he translated it to, "Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!"

"Then I shall die as one of them!" the ranger snapped, his eyes boring into Legolas's. He was surprised to have Legolas be the one to doubt him. He had not expected neither the Elf nor the Dwarf to let the coming battle get to them. But then perhaps the Elf was right to doubt the leadership of Aragorn, or so Aragorn thought. He looked away, then strode out of the armory.

He did not see Gimli stop Legolas from coming after him, saying, "Let him go, lad, let him be." Neither did he see Legolas sigh in shame, worry, and anger and retreat into the keep to put on the shoulder pieces he'd found to wear. Nor was he able to watch as the Elf played with a silver pendant hanging from a chain about his neck and finally curl his fingers around the leaf. Legolas was alone as he raised the pendant to his lips and whispered a prayer before he tucked the chain beneath his tunic.

Instead Aragorn paced angrily along the wall at the top of the keep. Eventually, as the sun began to fall, he sat. All around him, soldiers were scrambling to their places as they lit torches. And he was angry until he saw the group of young boys dressed in ill-fitted armor gathered around a brazier. One was holding his sword like he was afraid to touch it. "Give me your sword," he called firmly. The boy walked over slowly, then held out the sword, keeping back from the famed Lord Aragorn. "What is your name?" Aragorn asked.

"Haleth, son of Hama," the boy replied in a voice not yet fully deepened. "The men are saying we won't live out the night. They say that it is hopeless," the boy told him.

At this, Aragorn understood Legolas's anger. The Elf knew that unless Maelith found help, she would return to find her friend's corpses and her own death at the hands of the orcs. So he stood and swung the sword experimentally. "This is a good sword," he told the boy. He handed it back, and said, "Haleth, son of Hama." Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, he looked into the young brown eyes and said, "There is always hope." The boy nodded and bowed quickly before returning to his friends.

"There is always hope," Aragorn repeated quietly to himself. Setting his shoulders he returned to a small side room in the keep where he'd stashed his mail shirt and bow. Removing his cloak, sword belt, and black tunic, he dropped the mail over his red shirt. Over that he tied his black traveling tunic and his belt. His knife hung from the belt, his sword resting on the table. All he wore for armor was a mail shirt and gauntlets, and a fingerless glove on his sword hand. But that was how he fought. As he reached for his sword, he found it missing.

Movement in the corner of his eye made him turn to see Legolas offering the sword, his eyes calm and determined. The Heir of Gondor could only nod, wondering what his friend was going to say this time. But he was surprised when the Elf's eyes filled with remorse and he said, "We have trusted you this far, you have not led us astray." Aragorn started to shake his head, but Legolas was not done. "Forgive me, I was wrong to despair."

"No," Aragorn shook his head, and said, "Ú-moe edaved, Legolas." Legolas relaxed as he heard his friend and leader say, "There is nothing to forgive," and place a hand on his shoulder. He knew the touch was one of comfort, and clapped his friend on the shoulder only briefly in thanks.

They looked up when Gimli joined them, wearing a held up tunic of mail. He shifted it and said, "If we had time I'd get this adjusted." Then he let the tunic fall. Both Legolas and Aragorn raised an eyebrow at the length. It fell passed the Dwarf's feet. "It's a little tight across the chest," Gimli observed. Legolas was fighting back a smirk and failing; the corners of his mouth kept twitching up. Had Maelith been there to see this, she would have laughed openly, and Gimli would have laughed with her.

Then a horn sounded from outside. They all looked around and Legolas's brow furrowed. "That is no orc horn," he realized. Leaving the others to follow, he ran for the stairs, hope restored as he climbed.

Maelith sighed in relief when Helm's Deep came into view. The walls were lined with torches, though the fortress itself was dark. The Elves fell into ranks of four, leaving her to step aside and follow Haldir on the side. The horn sounded from the front of the column and every time it sang its wild song, Maelith smiled. The rhythm of the march was easy to follow for Maelith as they moved up the causeway though she looked around at the guards they passed once through the gate. She could not suppress her smile as she followed Haldir out of the line and towards Théoden.

The king was shocked, amazed, and awed. "How is this possible?" he asked as Haldir and Maelith bowed their heads.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," Haldir replied as the archers came to a stop behind him. Maelith removed his helm from her hair, and Théoden's eyes widened in realization. "An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together," the commander explained. He stopped as the sound of running made him and Maelith look up. A smile touched both Elven faces to see Aragorn and Legolas on the stairs above them. "We come to honor that allegiance," he explained simply as the two ran down the stairs.

"Mae govannen, Haldir," Aragorn said, relief evident in his eyes. He quickly touched his hand to his chest as Haldir dipped his head. To both Maelith and Haldir's surprise, Aragorn threw his arms around the commander in a hug. Haldir hesitated, then hugged his friend back. "You are most welcome," the ranger told him, moving aside to kiss Maelith's forehead as Legolas and Haldir clasped each other's shoulder. As one, the Elves draped in blue snapped their heads towards their commander, pivoted perfectly, and clicked their armored heels together to stand at attention once more.

Legolas shifted to stand behind Haldir and took Maelith's hand as the commander finished, "We are proud to fight alongside men once more."

"I will leave you in Lord Aragorn's hands then," Theoden decided, half bowing to the Elves.

Once the king had led his men away, Aragorn turned to Haldir. He scanned the Elves quickly then requested, "Have half of your troops take positions atop the wall and put the other half behind the wall." Haldir nodded, then moved among his troops to give orders. Maelith, Legolas, and Gimli moved in around the dark haired warrior and he gave simple, quick orders. "Legolas, Gimli, take a spot on the wall. Maelith, with me," he decided.

Behind them, the Elves split apart. One half shed their cloaks, handing them to the other half before they followed Haldir up onto the wall. Legolas and Gimli went with them. The other half followed Aragorn and Maelith into the keep. They deposited all the cloaks in the armory on their way to the doorway and the ramp to the grass courtyard behind the wall. Once Aragorn moved the archers into a good position, he called, "Wait for my command," in Sindarin. They all gave a single nod and Maelith looked around to see that the fortress was still. Everyone else had taken their positions and waited anxiously. Aragorn hurried up a set of stairs on the back of the wall. Maelith hurried along beside him, Haldir's helm still under her arm.

He found Legolas and Gimli easily enough, and both were fixed on the approaching horde. Legolas could see over the wall, and watched the torches grow closer. Gimli could only listen to the marching feet grow louder, but neither option was reassuring. "Well, lad, that luck you live by; let's hope it lasts the night," Gimli said, looking up at Aragorn. The wind began to pick up, catching at long hair and banners, and it smelled of heavy rain and lightning. Maelith rested her hand on Legolas's shoulder; he deceived relaxation by appearing to lean against his bow. But she knew he was as tense as all the rest of them.

Lightning crashed across the sky, turning Legolas to white and making Aragorn's eyes go wide. "Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas assured their leader.

"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli remarked, looking up at the Elf. Aragorn clasped the silver haired archer on the arm and moved down the wall.

Maelith went to follow only for Legolas to grab her wrist and pull her back. She turned towards him, confused, and his lips pressed against hers. The breath she had taken to speak caught in her throat, and she kissed him back. It lasted only a brief moment, though it was fearful and concerned and desperate. When a second lightning bolt broke them apart, Legolas requested softly, "Come back to me?"

"Always," Maelith murmured quietly, tapping his chest where she knew the pendant lay. Then she stepped back and hurried after Aragorn as it began to rain.

She pulled Haldir's helm on as she listened to Aragorn call, "Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!" She knew it was in Sindarin, but she barely heard the words in common. Her mind had switched naturally to Sindarin, as if common were her second language, not her first. Her eyes were fixed on the orc captain standing on a rock behind the front lines. He let out a bellow and the lines halted.

Aragorn stepped in front of the line of archers, and Maelith moved to stand behind him. She could feel his determination seeping into her, banishing her fear. Not even the chilling calls and wails of the orcs could chill the warmth that spread from Legolas's kiss. The orcs began to stomp their spears against the ground, and Aragorn drew his sword. "Maelith, put an arrow in that monster on his perch when I call," he ordered. She drew an arrow, but did not raise her bow. None of the Elves had moved, but she could see the human archers taking aim.

Through the night and the rain, her Elven eyes only caught sight of the first arrow for a tiny moment. "Hold!" Aragorn shouted, and she stilled. Then she watched as the orc fell into the mud and did not rise. Wails and battle cries rose from the uruh-kai behind the fallen and Maelith gritted her teeth against a snarl. The orc captain bellowed them forward and the lines began to advance on Helm's Deep.


	9. White Sun Rising

**Author's Note: Thanks to Leena and Etiquette for reviewing!**

Chapter 9

"Prepare to fire!" Aragorn yelled. All around him, Elves laid an arrow on their bows and Maelith raised her own. Her draw was slow and flowing as she breathed in to tighten her abdomen. Once her fingers were pressed just behind her mouth, she stopped and transferred the draw weight into her back and shoulders instead of her arms. Then she waited; this had to be a perfect shot.

They took aim, and Maelith heard Legolas say, "Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arm." Her bow shifted slightly, floating her aim up from the chest to the neck on the orc captain.

"Release arrows!" Aragorn hollered. The first two lines of orcs fell under the white fletched arrows. A volley rained down from the keep, striking down even more, though the human archers were far less effective than the Elves. Maelith let her years of practice take over and released, her fingers brushing back along her ear. She knew it was a perfect shot even as the Elves around her continued to fire volley after volley. The ranks down in the courtyard added a volley of their own, something only Aragorn would dare use Elves to do. It took great skill to aim over a wall and hit a target just on the other side without striking anyone on the wall.

Aragorn watched as the captain fell from his rock. Another climbed up to take his place, and Maelith instantly shifted from shooting down into the mass to pick off that one. But these were not mindless orcs, as Gimli had pointed out. The uruk-hai were smart, and once they reached close range, they raised heavy, powerful, cruel looking crossbows. "Take care of them," Aragorn ordered as one Elf actually fell from the wall. So she put an arrow in the closest crossbow, snapping the trigger mechanism and sending the wood flying into the face of the orc handling it. She only got off two more shots before the orc archers had to retreat into their lines to reload.

"Ladders!" Aragorn called in warning.

"Good!" Gimli cheered for finally seeing some action. Maelith shook her head at the Dwarf's antics, snapping off another shot at a crossbowman.

The ladders rose, each carrying a berserker on the top and Aragorn yelled, "Swords! Swords!" There was a ringing sound as bows were laid against the wall and the slightly tapered Elven swords drawn.

Legolas and Maelith had no swords and continued to fire their bows. Maelith saw one ladder rising before Aragorn and shouted, "Aragorn, down!" As soon as he dropped she snapped off a shot and the orc on the ladder toppled backwards. Everywhere an orc had reached the wall, Elves fell, though Gimli made short work of his. Aragorn pushed Maelith back, and she found herself falling. As she fell, she fired into the chest of an orc looming over her, but she knew she could not draw a weapon in time to kill him before he struck her. But she needn't have worried. Haldir fought nearby, and he whirled to cut down the orc towering over her.

Reaching down, the commander hauled her upright, "Keep shooting! I will guard your back!" he told her and she nodded. She stood just beside him, trying to shoot down orcs as they climbed the ladders around her. But her quiver emptied long before the orcs were stopped, and she grabbed an extra quiver from where it leaned against the wall. Backing away only long enough to slide the arrows into her own quiver, she made room for Haldir to move forward, his sword flashing. Rearmed, the girl took her place on the wall once more, this time standing right below it as she fired.

"Legolas! Two already!" Gimli yelled from somewhere behind her.

"I'm on seventeen!" Legolas called back. Maelith laughed incredulously and leaped up onto the wall. From there she was able to shoot straight down a ladder and keep two others clear as she did.

"I'll have no pointing ear outscoring me!" Gimli roared, and Maelith knew he was battle-crazy.

"Nineteen!" Legolas shouted.

Gimli was soon up on the wall as well, hacking away at orcs on two different ladders. He was shouting out his count, but Maelith was more worried about keeping her eye on Aragorn. A chain hanging from one of the ladders caught her eye and she darted beneath that ladder. Slipping an arrow through a metal link, she set it on her string and fired straight down the ladder into the chest of the orc closest to the top. The chain snapped taunt, and as the orc fell, he pulled the ladder down with him. When the mass tried to replace the ladder, they found they could not lift it. So they left it in the mud, and Maelith smirked. Twice more was she able to do this before Aragorn called out and shoved her bow towards the causeway. The line of Elves beside her swung around and fired into the exposed sides of the orc mass marching up the causeway.

Following Aragorn along the wall had brought her closer to Legolas, and she caught a few glimpses of him. She was relieved, if only to see him unharmed for the moment. But then her attention was caught by the weirdly moving orcs who appeared to be carrying something. Whatever the big, awkward looking balls were, they weren't good, so Maelith yanked out another arrow, and stretching up to the torch nearby, rolled the tip in the sappy fuel. It caught fire and the flames licked at Maelith's hand as she drew the arrow back. Standing again on the wall, she snapped off the second perfect shot of the night, sending the arrow through an opening in the shell of the spiked ball. It was third in line, and the only one not yet placed under the wall, and then it exploded in the mass of the orcs. Some went flying, but the bigger effect was the ripple effect as orcs fell into each other.

Then Aragorn spotted the spitting torch. The bare chested orc running through the lines could only be one thing, and it was not good. "Bring him down, Legolas!" Aragorn shouted. The Elf put one arrow in the orc's shoulder, but he did not fall. Maelith added her own shot, catching the orc in the middle of the chest as Aragorn yelled, "Kill him! Kill him!" Legolas's second arrow went in the other shoulder, but the orc managed to leap forward under the wall as Maelith's second shot was released.

Then the wall exploded. Most of the debris went flying out into the orc army, crushing and wounding a number of them. The Elves atop the wall went flying, and those closest to the explosion were knocked backwards. Maelith didn't see Aragorn or Gimli fall, she herself had been thrown from her feet by the blast. Knocked breathless, she fell, her forehead striking the stone as her bow clattered to the ground.

Blinking, she lifted her head, feeling warm blood running down her forehead. It dripped into her eyes and she swiped it away as she grabbed her bow. Scrambling to her feet, she found herself on the far side of the gap, and she could see Gimli on the other side. "Aragorn!" the Dwarf yelled. She looked to see her leader lying in the mud in the courtyard and then the Dwarf was leaping from the wall.

"Gimli!" Maelith and Aragorn shouted as the Dwarf plunged into the first of the orcs charging through the gap. Had the water not been there, the dwarf probably would have done well, but as it was, he went under the drainage and vanished. A volley of arrows struck down the first of the charge, giving the Elves some time to draw their swords as Aragorn ordered them forward.

Maelith looked over her shoulder to see that the orcs had abandoned the ladders on this side of the wall to charge through the gap. "Take the stairs! Get down there!" she yelled to the surviving Elves still fighting behind her. With no more orcs coming up the ladders, the Elves cleared the wall easily, though more did fall. Nodding to her, they charged down the staircases to join the fight in the mud. Finding her quiver empty, the bleeding girl resorted to using a barrel of arrows still standing on the wall. As she fired, she started kicking debris from the top of the wall down onto the orcs. If the stones wounded any orcs, that was a bonus to just making the gap smaller.

But when she saw the silver hair of Legolas flashing in the orc horde, she took a deep breath and stuck her bow into her quiver. Her friend was a force to be reckoned with as he whirled and slashed and stabbed with his knives, but even he could use help. So she backed up to get a running start and leaped from the wall, using all the strength and momentum she had to flip in midair and land on the back of an orc. It crumpled beneath her and she whipped her knives free as she stood from her crouch. Legolas nodded to her and she moved with him, turning round and round as she kept her back to him. Knives were a less familiar weapon in this manner, but Maelith found there was a certain grace to the whirling, spinning style used by Elves to slash and strike their enemies.

"Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep! Get your men out of there!" Théoden yelled from the top command center.

"To the Keep!" Aragorn ordered. He paused to strike down another orc.

"Fall back!" Maelith shouted to the Elves behind her.

"Pull back to the Keep!" Aragorn hollered. "Haldir! To the Keep!" Maelith looked up at that and spotted the commander still fighting on the wall. He held a sword dripping with black blood, and then Legolas caught her attention.

"Maelith!" he shouted. He was dragging Gimli away from the battle, though the Dwarf clearly did not want to leave.

"Help him!" she ordered an Elf as he ran by her. The soldier nodded and grabbed Gimli's other arm, heaving the Dwarf with him.

"Maelith! No!" Legolas cried as she ran up the stairs towards Haldir. The commander was still fighting, holding off the orcs as his soldiers scrambled to get by him.

"Go!" she screamed at him, not bothering to speak Sindarin. An orc caught her ankle on the stairs, and she fell with a snarl. Kicking free, she lunged upwards in time to see an orc plunge an axe in the back of the figure in a ripped red cloak. "Haldir!" Aragorn shouted. A scream ripped its way free of her throat, one of anger and fear and pain, and one of her knives flew from her hand to avenge the Elven Commander even as he sank to his knees. She ran the rest of the way to him, stopping only to shove another orc over the wall onto the spears of his comrades below. Aragorn was there, catching Haldir was his last breath left him, and Maelith yanked her knife free with vicious sorrow. The ranger touched a bloodied hand to his heart, then to Haldir's chest and Maelith leaned down to close his eyes with fingers stained black. "Come," Aragorn snarled, setting Haldir's body down as orcs charged them.

She saw the ladder he was aiming for, and leaped onto it as he punched an orc off. Kicking off the wall, the ladder fell with both of them clinging to a side. With a furious battle cry, Aragorn sprang off the ladder, and Maelith followed, fighting at his back as he forced his way through the horde to the ramp to the bottom of the Keep. Legolas was waiting at the door to the Keep, and he helped Aragorn slam it shut behind himself. "Hold this!" Aragorn ordered to the Elves who had survived. Immediately the Elves started stacking everything they could behind the door and replenished their arrow supplies.

"Go up top, help the archers," Aragorn added to Legolas and Maelith as they climbed through the Keep. They nodded and refilled their quivers, sheathing their knives as they ran. Maelith glanced back to see Aragorn and Gimli heading for the gate.

"You are wounded," Legolas realized as they took positions at the top of the Keep.

"Not badly," she assured him. She was shoved backwards by a boy when a grappling hook struck the wall, and she watched as the hook caught the stone. "Where are the anchors?" she asked Legolas. He pointed, and she sprang up onto one of the hook heads. With blood still dripping into her eyes, the shot went a little left, but still severed the rope at the base. The line snapped and the ladder fell before it was even raised half way. Legolas strode away, and she watched him fire at another ladder that was rising towards the wall. Smirking as the cable snapped and the ladder fell, she leaped up onto the wall and looked down onto the causeway.

"Legolas! Get a rope!" she cried, seeing Aragorn and Gimli fighting in front of a gate she knew to be barricaded. She'd felt the reinforcements going in beneath her feet. When the Elf reappeared behind her, the coil in his hand, she jumped down and moved aside.

"Aragorn!" Legolas yelled, stepping up onto the wall. He tossed the coil down and Maelith took his bow so he could pull their friends to safety. Once Aragorn and Gimli were standing straight, Maelith handed Legolas his bow and they ran after the ranger. He was moving along the top of the Keep, probably intending to return to the gate, but he was stopped.

"Fall back!" one of Théoden's captains yelled from the gate.

"They have broken through! The castle is breached! Retreat! Retreat!" Aragorn shouted, breaking into a run as uruks poured up the stairs. "Hurry! Get them inside!" he added, shoving open the door to the second keep wall. Legolas and Maelith fired into the horde swarming up the stairs, though four arrows did little to stop the mass. Inside the second wall, orcs were charging up the stairs into the courtyard, striking down all the Rohirrim in reach. Maelith stumbled on the stairs, blood having blocked her vision, and Legolas grabbed her arm.

Aragorn caught her inside the door, though she scrambled away so he could pull Legolas inside. They held the uruks off for as long as they could, but eventually, they had to close the doors. Maelith's eyes watered furiously when she realized how few of the Rohirrim had survived the retreat to take shelter in the throne room. Soon the battering ram came, and Maelith watched from her place on a bench as Aragorn and Legolas helped the survivors barricade the doors. "The fortress is taken," Théoden called from where his captain was trying to bind his wound. Gimli was standing before Maelith, wiping blood from her face and wrapping a bandage around her forehead before he replaced Haldir's helm on her head. "It is over," the king despaired.

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it," Aragorn reminded him, lifting a bench for Legolas to take to the barricade. "They still defend it, they have died defending it!" the ranger yelled. It seemed the two had switched roles from this afternoon; now it was Aragorn who was determined to be optimistic. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" he asked. Maelith scrambled backwards when Legolas overturned the table beside her, sending candles and bowls rattling to the floor. She grabbed the other side and lifted it, earning herself a nod from Legolas as she helped him place it. "Is there no other way?" Aragorn asked incredulously.

"There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far, the uruk-hai are too many," the captain replied.

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass! And barricade the entrance!" Aragorn ordered, shoving the captain towards a back door. The double doors would not last much longer; the slams were rattling the wood in the frame.

"So much death," Théoden despaired. "What can men do against such reckless hate?" he asked hollowly.

Maelith turned from the barricade to a side door. There was something important about that door, so she strode over and threw it open. At once, the horses in the makeshift stables neighed and stomped, smelling the uruks and the death and wanting to get out. Aragorn met Maelith's eyes, and an idea occurred to him. "Ride out with me," he suggested to Théoden. When the king looked at him as though the ranger had lost his mind, Aragorn insisted, "Ride out and met them."

"For death and glory," Théoden realized.

"For Rohan," Aragorn corrected. "For your people."

"The sun is rising," Gimli told them. Maelith nodded; dawn was as good a time as any to make a last stand. Though she particularly liked dawn, and thought it fitting to make her final stand in the golden light. Watching Aragorn's face, she saw that something else had come to his mind at the sight of the sun.

"Yes," Théoden decided. "Yes. The Horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the Deep, one last time," he declared.

"Yes!" Gimli growled. He took no urging at the mention of horses to start for the stairs of the Tower of the Horn.

Maelith turned into the stables, Legolas beside her, as Théoden said to Aragorn, "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together." Maelith and Legolas ran about, joined quickly by a few soldiers, and they tacked up as many horses as they could.

"Come! We're out of time!" Aragorn called to them, and Maelith dropped the saddle in her arms. She hurried back into the throne room to where the others were already mounted and moved to Hasufel's side. Aragorn rode Brego, the dark horse who'd found him, and Legolas was mounted on Arod. Had the times not been so dire, Maelith would have thought it magnificent; the dark haired ranger and great warrior on the dark horse, the fair prince and terrible archer on the white one. As she swung up into her saddle, Legolas handed her a sword he had gotten from somewhere. He too had one. Their eyes met and Legolas leaned over, resting his forehead against the bandage on hers.

"Fell deeds await us," Théoden murmured. Before them, the last men holding shut the doors gave way and Maelith saw the cracks in the wood. "Now for wrath," Théoden declared. Aragorn drew his sword and the king continued, "Now for ruin and the red dawn!" He pulled his helm on and Legolas pulled away to kiss her briefly on the lips.

All around them, the Horn of Helm Hammerhand rumbled through the walls and the doors fell. "Forth Eorlingas!" Théoden cried, raising his sword. He spurred his horse forward, and the few riders behind him followed. Uruk-hai fell before horse and sword, though they didn't have the greatest effect until the causeway. There the uruks had moved into such a close space that they fell off the sides as the horses charged. Maelith found that Gimli's preferred method of hacking was very effective from horseback, even with her considerable lack of experience with the weapon.

A horse's far off trumpet caught her attention for only a second, and she saw Shadowfax and Gandalf standing on the hill above them. To her surprise, a laugh of relief bubbled up in her throat as the line of horsemen appeared on the crest of the hill. She managed to hold it in as the Riders charged down the hill, led by Eomer and Gandalf. But when the dawn broke over the hill, blinding the uruk-hai, she turned it into a battle-cry, and Legolas smiled at her. Aragorn looked back at her, and he spurred Brego forward, his sword flashing. Legolas, Maelith and Théoden were on either side of him as they fought their way towards Gandalf.

When the uruk-hai started to flee, Maelith didn't believe it. So she rose in her stirrups to look and heard Théoden yell, "Victory! We have victory!" She cut down one last orc before her, then reined Hasufel back. Sorrow had replaced her grief, for she had turned and glimpsed the courtyard full of fallen Elves. Tears ran down her face, streaking white lines through the dirt and grime and blood, but she did not care. The uruk-hai were gone and slowly the riders of Rohan began to make the preparations for the dead.

Legolas found her cradling Haldir's head in her lap atop the wall. The women and children had come out of the caves, though they were tending the wounded inside the Keep to stay away from the worst of the carnage. "What is going to happen to them?" she asked him quietly.

"Eomer will bury them with honor in the land of their last allies," he assured her. "Maelith, will you ride with us?" he asked. When she looked up through her mused and strangling hair he elaborated, "Gandalf is going to Isengard to confront Sarumon. Aragorn, Gimli and I will ride with him."

"I will ride with you," she replied, meeting his eyes. "Though I want to stay and help," she sighed. Graves had to be dug, bodies cleaned, walls restored, and gates repaired among other things.

Legolas sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, understanding making him unusually comfortable with contact. He stayed with her until Haldir's body was born away and then lifted her up. "Come, I am sure someone can spare you a wash cloth," he murmured. She leaned into his embrace, and he did want to let her go. It ended up being him to find a cloth and clean her face. Not liking the vacancy in her eyes, he knelt behind her on the stairs where she sat and swiftly rebraided her hair before tending to his own.

It took many long hours, but eventually all the men and boys were buried, all the Elves wrapped in their cloaks and laid beneath the earth, and Maelith could not see it. For she rode in Hasufel's saddle, though her mind was far away. The hood of her cloak was pulled over her head, her quiver full with both her knives and bow. With Gandalf leading the way, the party was heading for Isengard. Lieutenant Gamling rode beside her, following his king and lord as she followed Aragorn and Legolas.

"Sauron's loss with be terrible, his retribution swift," Gandalf told them at the top of the hill. They looked out over the land though it was the dark clouds and the orange fires in the distant skies that drew their attention.

Legolas looked back at Maelith and his brow furrowed in concern. The girl was staring at the sky, her eyes lost. So he breathed, "My white rose."

This caught her attention, and she smiled at him, whispering her reply of, "With thorns sharp, my green leaf."

"The Battle for Helm's Deep is over; the battle for Middle Earth is about to begin." The wizard and the ranger exchanged a look, and Gandalf said, "All our hopes lie with two little Hobbits, somewhere in the wilderness."

**AN: And so ends the Two Towers movie! I'll be starting Return of the King next week!**


	10. White to Gray and Gray to White

**Author's note: Hi everyone! I'm back from a brutal week of midterms! Also, I did some research on the types of Elves, and I've decided that Maelith needs a skill her people are known for. So it's singing. I think songs are a really good way to inspire emotions in other people, and that's exactly what I see Maelith doing. Here's the next chapter!**

Chapter 10

It was too quiet. No one had spoken the entire way from Helm's Deep, and Maelith did not like it. With Fangorn approaching, she knew the silence would darken with unease, and she suspected all her grief would come back. So she spurred Hasufel across the grass to Gandalf's side to ask, "Might I sing?"

"Sing? Why would you do that?" the wizard asked her, turning thoughtful eyes to her.

"It is far too quiet, and the sun is shining," she replied, lowering her head as she explained.

To her surprise, Gandalf laughed and nodded. A smile broke out over the girl's face and she drew back to ride behind him. She thought for a moment, then started to sing. "Now, when the world is shadowed and dark." At the sound of her soft voice, Legolas looked up, being the only to hear her. A small smile touched his face, for he had not heard a voice so beautiful since his youth. "Now, when the sky is empty of stars. Now, when the world is wrapped in sleep, in a quiet endless and deep. In the silence of the night." Then, throwing her hood off, she started over, her voice louder and clear, so all of the men heard her. Each of them looked to her, startled by the sound but entranced by her voice.

"Far off in the distance a fire comes to life. A flicker of the flame breaks through the dark, burning soft and bright, dancing with the light, awakening the heavens and the earth. Far across the ocean a flame is rising high, breaking through the shadows and the dark, shining in the night, rising with the light, here to wake the heavens and the earth," she sang on, smiling up as the sunlight broke through the clouds above. The men of Rohan marveled at her voice, none having heard an Elf sing before. What they did not know was that Maelith's voice was spectacular even among the Elves.

Maelith basked in the sunlight as she kept singing, her blue eyes bright with the joy only an Elf could possess. "Now, as the light starts to rise. Now, as the day opens wide. Now, as the dream slips away, you wake to the day, you wake to the light. Feel as your dream falls away. Feel as the dark turns to day. Leave the shadows behind, and the dream cold and blind, turn into the light." Aragorn straightened in his saddle as Maelith's words hit home. Her song gave him hope, hope that Frodo was still out there, fighting his way through the wilds of Mordor to Mount Doom.

"Far off in the distance a fire comes to life. A flicker of the flame breaks through the dark, burning soft bright, dancing with the light. Awakening the heavens and the earth. Far across the ocean a flame is rising high, breaking through the shadows and the dark. Shining in the night, rising with the light, here to wake the heavens and the earth," Hasufel pranced beneath Maelith as she sang and all the horses perked up. Their ears flicked forward, their manes tossing as they lifted their heads, even as they crossed into Fangorn.

Gazing around Fangorn once more, Maelith smiled, determined to finish her song. Not even the wild age of this forest would deter her. "Far off in the distance a fire comes to life. A flicker of the flame breaks through the dark, burning soft bright, dancing with the light. Awakening the heavens and the earth. Far across the ocean a flame is rising high, breaking through the shadows and the dark. Shining in the night, rising with the light, here to wake the heavens and the earth," her voice was louder now as she sang. Around her, trees groaned, and her smile only grew. Legolas looked around with wide eyes, feeling the anger around him fade. It seemed even the oldest of forests could not resist Maelith's voice. There was peace around him and he shook his head in wonder.

"Here to wake the heavens and the earth to life!" she finished with a drawn out note, and Gandalf smiled to her. He was amazed by her. She had fought a great battle and seen so much death, yet she found the perfect song to ease the burden of grief in her companions. He too could feel the peace in the trees around him and he nodded to her to keep singing. Leading the way, he thought he saw some of the trees pull their roots back, and suspected Maelith was the first to sing inside Fangorn in long years.

Maelith looked around at the forest and the perfect song come to mind. Awakening was followed by The Voice, for the forest and perhaps Legolas too. When You Believe was for Théoden and Eomer, and their captain. She sang They Live in You for Aragorn, knowing how much he struggled under the burden of his lineage. For Gandalf she sang You Raise Me Up. Thinking of Frodo and Sam, she sang When the Darkness Comes. Without even thinking of the song, she sang You Can't Take Me for Gimli. But her favorite song, called Breath of Life, was cut off by a joyous sound when Shadowfax neighed. A familiar laugh replied from ahead, and Maelith couldn't believe it.

"Welcome, my lords to Isengard!" Merry stood on the ruins of a wall, clean and unharmed with a pipe in his hand.

"And Lady!" Pippin cheered, spotting Maelith, and she could not stop the grin that spread across her face. She drew up beside Gandalf, laughing.

"You young rascals!" Gimli exclaimed. Pippin held up his pipe in salute and Maelith saw Aragorn and Legolas exchange a smile. "A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and smoking!" The Dwarf clearly did not know how to tell the Hobbits he was glad to see them, for he stumbled through complaining to them.

"We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts," Pippin corrected. Maelith's bell like laugh rang out, and she realized how much she had missed lying on the ground looking up at the stars with Pippin on one side and Merry on the other. "The salted pork is particularly good," the younger Hobbit told the Dwarf.

"Salted pork?" Gimli sounded like he might drool at the thought. Maelith crinkled her nose, though she did want one of the apples she could see beside Merry.

"Hobbits," Gandalf muttered, shaking his head. Maelith laughed again and slid down from her saddle.

"We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard," Merry told the group as Maelith handed her reins to Gandalf.

"Do those orders stop you from hugging a friend who is very glad to see you?" she asked teasingly as she looked up at them. With a laugh, Pippin jumped off the wall into Maelith's arms and she spun him around. Then she leaped nimbly up beside Merry and set Pippin down. He scrambled into his jacket and cloak as she went to hug Merry. The cheeky thing puffed a circle of smoke in her face and she recoiled, coughing and eyes watering. "You little devil," she laughed, catching him in a headlock to give him a noogie. When he broke free, he found himself with a face-full of cloth as Maelith threw his coat at him. Laughing, he pulled on his travelling clothes and picked up the packets of Longbottom Leaf.

Aragorn rode forward to take Pippin on his saddle as Maelith knelt beside the basket of apples. Finding the best of them, she tossed one to Legolas, Eomer, and Aragorn each and offered one to the older men of Rohan. When they declined, as did Gandalf and Gimli, she shrugged and bit into a dark red one.

A sigh of pleasure escaped her even as she felt juice run down her chin. Merry wiped it away with the corner of his cloak, drawing a chuckle form the group, and she jumped down to swing easily into Hasufel's saddle. She pulled the taller Hobbit up behind her and they followed after Gandalf as he made his way into Isengard. "How did you do this?" Maelith asked Merry upon seeing the flooded area.

"The Ents broke the dam on the river," he told her simply. She nodded, looking around in awe, though her brow furrowed when her gaze came to rest on the dark tower.

"Ah, young master Gandalf," a deep, slow voice made her look around, and she blinked. The creature before her could only be an Ent, and Treebeard at that. Tilting her head, she caught sight of the leaves on his shoulders, and guessed he was a birch Ent. "I'm glad you've come," he told them, and Maelith could almost hear the creaking of wood in his voice. "Under water, stocking stone, I can master. But there's a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower," he added.

"Show yourself," Aragorn whispered, looking up at the tower.

"Be careful," Gandalf cautioned them. "Even in defeat Sarumon is dangerous."

"Then let's just have his head and be done with it," Gimli suggested.

"No," Gandalf replied, "We need him alive." Maelith and Eomer turned to look at Gandalf, both raising an eyebrow at the wizard. "We need him to talk," the wizard explained, looking to the tower.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King, and made peace afterwards," the voice from above them made everyone look up, and Maelith's eyes narrowed. Her keen gaze caught the dullness of the once white robes and the cloudiness of the once clear orb in the staff. Sarumon was not well in defeat. "May we not take council together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?" he asked.

"We shall have peace," Théoden replied. Aragorn and Gandalf turned to look at the thundering king in slight concern, though the others did not dare look from Sarumon. "We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there. We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged!" Théoden was furious, though Maelith did have to give credit to his passion and love for his people. In a softer growl, the king continued, "When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows. We shall have peace."

Maelith watched Aragorn look back up at the wizard, and she knew his eyes burned. "Gibbet and crows…don't!" Sarumon snarled. "What do you want, Gandalf Grayhame? Let me guess, the Key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the Keys of Barad-dur itself, along with the crowns of the Seven Kings and the Rods of the Five Wizards?" The White Wizard's voice dripped with scorn and anger as he snarled at Gandalf.

"Your treachery has already cost many of lives, thousands more are now at risk. But you can save them, Sarumon. You were deep in the enemy's council," Gandalf told him.

"So you have come here for information? I have some for you," the older wizard replied. He held up a black ball made of glass, and Maelith watched as orange and white shapes took form within the center. It was a seeing stone, rare and dangerous and nearly impossible to control. "Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see. The Great Eye has seen it," the wizard informed them. He lowered the seeing stone and Maelith relaxed, released from the wary tension the orb had caught her in. She did not know why but the glass ball whispered of secrets and dark truths and hidden pasts. "Even now, he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon," the wizard's words made Gandalf ride forward, and Maelith moved Hasufel up between Aragorn and Legolas. "You are all going to die," Sarumon declared.

Merry's hand tightened on Maelith's belt, and she reached behind her to touch his knee. Sarumon continued, a horrible leer to his voice as he said, "But you know this don't you, Gandalf? You cannot think this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor? This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king."

"Why will he not? He is every inch a King!" Maelith called up, her eyes burning in defense of her friend and leader. She had seen Aragorn stiffen, if only slightly, but she could guess his thoughts.

"And what makes you the judge of Kings, little girl? Has Gandalf told you the truth of your past? Or have you remembered that it was I who sent you from this world?" the graying wizard sneered at her. Instantly Maelith looked to the White Wizard, but he did not turn to her. "Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love," Sarumon told both her and Aragorn, spitting the word love like a disease. "Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom?" Gandalf sighed, and Maelith saw that Frodo weighed heavily on his mind, just as the Hobbit did for Aragorn. "The path you have set him on could only lead to death."

Maelith's hands tightened on the reins as Gimli snapped, "I've heard enough." Then he told Legolas, "Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob."

Both Elves reached for their quivers, only for Gandalf to order, "No!" Then the White Wizard, who was Sarumon as he should have been, called, "Come down, Sarumon." Maelith loaded her bow, though she held it low and relaxed, for Sarumon did not seem willing to cooperate. "And your life will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy!" the fallen wizard cried, raising his staff. "I have no use for it!" he shouted, and fire erupted from the bottom of the staff. Maelith gasped as the fire enveloped Gandalf and Shadowfax, and the horses jerked and started. Hasufel half-reared as Brego whinnied in alarm and Maelith clutched at his mane. Merry threw his arms around Maelith's waist, otherwise he would have toppled into the water and who knew what lay there. The girl pushed her weight forward, forcing the sorrel to stand as they watched the fire swirl. But the heat forced them to shield their faces, and Merry and Pippin ducked behind the rider before them.

As the flames dissipated, Sarumon's eyes went wide and Maelith saw Aragorn allow himself a smirk. "Sarumon, your staff is broken!" Gandalf called calmly. Thunder roared overhead as lightning cracked along the gray staff. The wood shattered, the pieces falling into smoke long before they touched the water below.

Then another familiar figure appeared beside Sarumon. Pale, with sunken eyes and still swathed in black furs, Grima Wormtongue looked for all the world a crushed man. "Grima, you need not follow him," Théoden called. "You were not always as you are. You were once a man of Rohan," he told the small man. Shame and surprise flickered in Grima's eyes before he bowed.

Clearly he was intending to come down to his king, but he was stopped as Sarumon spoke. "Rohan," the wizard sneered. "What is the House of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs?" The three men of Rohan stiffened, their jaws clenched in fury, though Maelith noticed that Eomer held in his anger best. "The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-master," Sarumon snapped. "You are a lesser son of greater sires."

"Grima, come down," Théoden urged, "Be free of him."

"Free? He will never be free!" Sarumon cried.

"No," Grima shook his head, eyes locked on Sarumon.

"Filthy cur," the wizard snarled, turning to the man and slapping him hard enough to knock him to the stone.

"Sarumon!" Gandalf protested, having seen Maelith and Legolas start to raise their bows. "You were deep in the enemy's council; tell us what you know," Gandalf suggested.

"You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided," the first White Wizard replied. Maelith did not know if he spoke of them or the Ents. "I will not be held prisoner here," he continued as a thin black arm wrapped around his chest and a dagger appeared above his head. Grima stabbed the wizard twice in the back before two arrows, one fletched in green and the other in white, pierced his chest.

The man in black furs fell back with a startled cry of pain as the man draped in dull white robes turned around. Maelith caught a glimpse of the dagger in Sarumon's back before he toppled over the side of the tower and fell, flipping head over heels, towards the water. When he landed with a squelching thud on the spiked wheel she drew a sharp breath and looked away. Behind her, Merry gasped, raising his hand to his mouth to cover the sound. "Send word to all our allies, to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike," Gandalf ordered Théoden, who could only nod.

"Treebeard, my friend, might you put his body below the water?" Gandalf called to the Ent nearby.

"Of course, Master Gandalf," the tree herder sighed. Maelith and Legolas exchanged a glance and slid their bows back into their quivers as the Ent moved over them. With slow ease, the shepherd of the forest turned the wheel, lowering Sarumon's speared body beneath the murky waters. Maelith heard a splash, but when she turned to look, saw nothing. Perhaps something had fallen. "The filth of Sarumon is washing away," Treebeard declared in satisfaction.

Indeed something had dropped into the water, and Pippin had spotted it. The fire under the water caught his eye, and he found himself enthralled as Treebeard went on, "Trees will come to live here; young trees, wild trees."

"Pippin!" Aragorn cried when the littlest of Hobbits dropped into the water. Maelith turned Hasufel in the water and Merry leaned around her to see what his friend was doing. The curly haired Halfling waded through the flood to lean down, reaching for something.

When he straightened, Treebeard was the only one who could see what was in his hands. "Bless my bark," the Ent sighed, his olive colored eyes blinking in astonishment.

Shadowfax walked over, blocking Pippin from the others' view, and Gandalf leaned over. "Peregrin Took!" Gandalf's voice was gentle but laced with authority. "I'll take that, my lad," the wizard said. "Quickly now." Pippin reached up, and Maelith and Merry saw the black seeing stone as he handed it to Gandalf. They watched curiously as Gandalf wrapped it in his robes and turned Shadowfax away, but only Merry saw the way his best friend watched the wizard leave.

"Come, Pippin," Aragorn called as Théoden followed Gandalf back towards the wall. The Ranger pulled the Hobbit up behind him with ease, then fell in behind the King of Rohan. Legolas and Eomer followed with Maelith behind them, Gamli bringing up the rear.

As they crossed back through Fangorn, Eomer asked, "Would you sing again, Lady Maelith?"

"Oh, yes! Sing for us!" Merry urged from behind her.

"Very well," she smiled at Legolas as he nodded to her and thought for a moment. She swallowed, then began to sing again. Breath of Life, the song she liked for the two Hobbits, was followed by I Will Always Return, this one for Eomer. Once again the trees groaned and creaked around them, but the she-elf was not afraid. This forest was on their side. So she sang without fear for being heard by the enemy until they broke free of the shadows into the sunlight. Then Gandalf sped up, and they cantered across the hills and plains. They didn't need to worry about resting the horses, though they slowed once in a while for the Hobbits' sakes. The Horses of the Mark were strong; their endurance great.

They made good time, reaching Edoras as the sun fell behind them. The city was full once more of the Rohirrim, all who greeted their king, lord, and captain with calls of welcome. Aragorn too was greeted by calls of my lord, though the Elves and Dwarf were still largely unknown. Eowyn was waiting for them when they climbed the stairs to the Golden Hall, her pale blue dress catching the light of the sunset. "There is time for a bath before the feast, my lords," she told her uncle and brother. They nodded, both kissing her cheek before disappearing inside the hall. "You all are welcome to the bath-house," she added to the other men. "Lady Maelith, I've had a bath drawn in my quarters for you," she said when the wizard, ranger, Dwarf, Elf, and Hobbits walked away.

"Thank you," Maelith sighed, running a hand through her tangled and dirt streaked hair. She had not truly had the chance to clean up after the battle at Helm's Deep. Eowyn nodded and led her through the hall to a room draped in white and furs. Behind a woven screen she found a steaming bath, and she heard the Lady of Rohan slip out of the room. Setting her quiver and cloak on the floor, she glanced down at her clothes with a sigh. All of it needed to be washed, but she dared not request it. So she folded her green tunic, brown jerkin, and gray leggings at the foot of the bed and dropped her boots beside her quiver. Her long socks and undergarments went beneath her jerkin, and then she was sliding into the wooden tub.

Brushing out her braids and scrubbing the long hair she found it to be longer. It hung nearly all the way down her back now. Smiling to herself as she played with it, she noticed that Eowyn's soap smelled of lavender. It was a refreshing scent after the battle and days of travelling, so she didn't mind using it to scrub the dirt, sweat, and grime from her skin. As the water cooled, she climbed out, ringing her longer hair out before she wrapped it in a towel.

A green dress had been left on the bed and her clothes taken away to be washed. Her weapons, boots, and cloak had not been touched, though Pippin's Lorien broach had been left on top of her cloak. Making a mental note to return it to the Hobbit, she slid into a fresh set of undergarments, including a simple white shift. The dress followed, and when she raised her arms to remove the towel from her hair, she caught sight of the long, banner-like sleeves. A knock at the door caught her attention, and she called, "Come in?" Eowyn slipped inside, a soft smile on her face, and she tied up the back of the dress before Maelith could even ask.

"Would you like any help with your hair?" the White Lady offered.

"Were you not so polite I would think you desired to touch it," Maelith smiled at her, then handed the brush over. A blush rose in the woman's cheeks, and the Elf laughed softly. "Just leave it down," she instructed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Some time passed before either spoke, and it was Eowyn who said, "My uncle told me you are a skilled warrior."

"Skilled archer, perhaps, but most Elves are such. My companions are great warriors, not I," Maelith protested, knowing she still had so much to learn.

"Everyone has their own strength, my lady, surely archery is your own," the woman replied.

"Were Legolas not with us I would say yes, but he far eclipses me. My strength is my voice. Even Fangorn Forest could not resist," the Elf told her. There was a smile in her voice, though her eyes were thoughtful.

"Would you sing for me?" the White Lady asked softly, "For a friend?"

"It would be my honor to consider myself among your friends, my lady," Maelith assured her. Her voice was quiet, for Eowyn only, as she started to sing, "When your soul finds the soul it was waiting for. When someone walks into your heart through an open door. When your hand finds the hand it was meant to hold, don't let go. Someone comes into your world; suddenly your world has changed forever." Behind her, Eowyn's hands stilled, the brush leaving her hair.

Maelith smiled to herself as she went on, "No, there's no one else's eyes that can see into me. No one else's arms can lift, lift me up so high. Your love lifts me out of time and you know my heart by heart." She had seen, quite obviously, how Eowyn felt about Aragorn, even if it was love unrequited.

"When you're one with the one you were meant to find, everything falls in place, all the stars align. When you're touched by the love that has touched your soul, don't let go. Someone comes into your world; suddenly your world has changed forever," As she sang, Maelith found herself enchanted by her own voice. A pair of bright, lively, blue eyes lingered in her mind as her ears remembered the sweet song of two bows.

"No, there's no one else's eyes that can see into me. No one else's arms can lift, lift me up so high. Your love lifts me out of time and you know my heart by heart." Now the two women faced each other, both far away though so close.

"Somehow we found a way to find each other. Somehow I found my way to you. No, there's no one else's eyes that can see into me," Maelith thought about how chance had brought her here, though Sarumon had said she had been here before. Had she grown up here? Why did she have no memory of this world? Was that why she had known Haldir but not remembered?

"No, there's no one else's eyes that can see into me. No one else's arms can lift, lift me up so high. Your love lifts me out of time and you know my heart by heart. And, you know my heart by heart. And you know my heart by heart. And you know my heart by heart," with a sigh, she trailed off, releasing both Eowyn and herself from the trance. They blinked, and Maelith smiled.

"Thank you," Eowyn murmured. She seemed awed and thoughtful, though her eyes were calmer. There was peace within them, and for that, Maelith was glad. Peace and hope were so fleeting with the darkness looming overhead, and the Elven girl was determined to keep the flame alive.

**AN: Here's a list of the songs and artists I used in this chapter. Also, I need a Legolas song. Anyone got one I could have Maelith sing? Please let me know!**

"**Awakening," "The Voice," "When You Believe," & "You Raise Me Up" by Celtic Women,**

"**They Live in You" from the Lion King original Broadway cast, **

"**When the Darkness Comes" by Colbie Caillat & "Heart by Heart" by Demi Lovato from the Mortal Instruments: City of Bones soundtrack,**

"**You Can't Take Me" & "I Will Always Return" by Gavin Greenway, from the Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron soundtrack,**

"**Breath of Life" by Florence + the Machine, from the Snow White and the Huntsman soundtrack.**


	11. Depth of Fire

**Author's Note: First off, I've discovered a grievous error on my part. Maelith simply cannot have the same silvery hair as Legolas, as she is not Sindarin, like he and Thranduil. Nor can she have golden hair, for she is neither of the Golden House of Finarfin, like Galadriel, nor is she of the Teleri. And since I do not want her to be too much like Tauriel, she cannot have red or brown hair, as she is not Silvan. So I must change her hair color to a deep, rich chocolate color, for she is in fact of the Noldor. But of which house, you will see soon!**

**Second, reviewers thanks! To Samuel La Flame: Thanks so much for reviewing! Yes, I know the song, and I'm glad you agree that it fits. Since you've read so much of the story, do you think you could recommend a song specifically for Maelith? I'd really appreciate it! To Simply Supreme: don't you worry, your curiosity will soon be fulfilled!**

**Lastly, the stuff in italics is a memory**

Chapter 11

Maelith left Eowyn to change into a pale blue dress and made her way down the corridor to the busy hall. Servants and staff were transforming it into a feasting hall, and Maelith ducked as two large soldiers carried out barrels of ale to place on the tables. They lifted them over her and she shifted out of the way, watching from the relative safety of the raised dais. "Would I be of assistance?" she asked a woman who seemed to be in charge.

To her shock, the woman actually seemed offended. "Absolutely not, my lady. If I will not have the Lady Eowyn, why should I have you help? Be off with you!" she replied.

"Yes, ma'am," Maelith blinked, unable to completely hide her surprise. She was intending to stick to the shadows to help, but the woman instantly dispelled that theory by chasing the Elven girl from the hall, a wooden serving spoon on her hand. Upon the first thwack from the spoon, Maelith jumped, spinning around so that her hair and dress flared around her. All around her, soldiers and servants laughed, most having reacted exactly so to their first thumping. They were not surprised when the Elf was chased out the doors.

"She is not to return until I say so," the woman barked at one of the door guards.

"Yes, Mistress Freda," the soldier replied quickly, wary hazel eyes fixed on the serving spoon. Maelith huffed but immediately took a step back when the woman turned the spoon on her again. Instead of arguing her cause, the girl hiked up her skirt and fled down the stairs to sit on the stone. She found Merry and Pippin there already, smoking once more, having both been driven out of the hall under threat of the spoon.

Only a little while later did Eomer retrieve them, laughing as the Hobbits indignantly protested being thumped by a wooden spoon. "At least it wasn't Sam's cooking pan," Merry pointed out in the end as they returned to the hall.

"Aye. The big lug knows how to swing that thing," Pippin exclaimed, rubbing a spot on the back of his head where Maelith assumed Sam had thumped him with the pan. She laughed at the two of them, making them both smile widely up at her. Anyone to be the cause of that sound earned a spot of pride. "Will you sit with us, Maelith?" the smaller one asked hopefully.

"Only if you sing for me tonight, my little ones," she teased, ruffling his hair as she slipped onto the wooden bench between the two. Looking around as the hall filled with Riders of Eomer's eored, their wives, and their children, Maelith came to a realization. Soldiers of Rohan were broadly built with deep voices and a dipping, rasping accent. They were warriors of the horses, armed with long-swords and spears, each in the saddle before they could run. Every one of them had thick blonde or red hair paired with blue or hazel eyes. Even the women were thick around the shoulders from lifetimes of working with their horses. She wondered briefly if Gondorians were like that, but suspected not. Boromir had not been so broad, and nor was Aragorn.

But she was drawn from her musing as mugs of ale were passed down the table. Eyeing the tankard set before her, she glanced up at to see Aragorn at the table in front of her. "Aragorn, _what do I do? Drink ale before I have not," _she said.

The dark haired warrior turned to her, a small smile on his face. "Here," he offered a plain silver goblet and Maelith sighed in relief. The sharp scent of wine reached her as she eagerly swapped the tankard for the goblet.

"_Hannon le, mellon nin," _she murmured gratefully. There was an earthy aroma drifting up to her nose as Legolas and Gimli slid onto the bench behind Maelith, and she smiled over her shoulder at them. Legolas, fair and proud in his silvery blue tunic, already had a goblet of the strawberry herb wine, Gimli proudly bearing a mug of the frothy wheat ale and still clad in his mail. It did not take long for Théoden and Eomer to take their places on the dais, but only Eomer had a drink in his hand. Everyone still standing sat immediately, and Eowyn appeared at the doors.

The White Lady of Rohan held an ornate silver goblet, and she walked slowly down the center aisle. As she passed, silence fell, and Théoden watched his niece approach with sad, dark eyes. Once his hands closed over hers in acceptance of the goblet, he raised his eyes to the hall, and straightened ever so slightly. As he held out the goblet in front of him, Aragorn stood, and his friends quickly followed. The rest of the hall got to their feet. "Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country," the king announced. He held up his goblet and said, "Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" Museheld rang with the responding cry and everyone raised their drinks. As Maelith lifted her goblet, she noticed Aragorn hesitate before he drank from his tankard, and she guessed he was thinking of Boromir. She could feel Haldir's helm on her head once more and his empty brown eyes stared at her from the shadows in her mind.

_A firm hand pressed against her shoulder blades, forcing her draw to the corner of her mouth. "Now aim, little bell, and release," Haldir told her. Obediently, her eyes locked on the target set thirty meters away and the tip of the arrow rose to her aiming point. Her fingers slid off the string and brushed over her cheek, stopping just under her ear. The familiar twang of the Eregion bow was deeper than the bow she'd brought from Lindon, though the vibrations weren't so noticeable. Her pink lips quirked up in a small grin of triumph when she saw the white feathered arrow buried in the center of her target. "Now let us see how many times you do that before I move your target," her best friend teased._

Maelith felt her eyes widen and the hot sting of tears could not be ignored. But she knew no one saw as a single glittering tear fell passed her goblet as she drank. How had she not remembered her own best friend? Why had he not said anything? A second realization made the words of Galadriel's warning ring in her ears. Haldir's death had freed her memories; it had taken the loss of her best friend to start to repair the damage Sarumon had done to her. Sorrow seemed to weigh heavily on both of them as they drank, but Merry and Pippin soon took care of that for Maelith, even if they couldn't take the burden for her.

She watched the two Hobbits drink, and she found herself wondering how much was too much for the Halflings. But she shouldn't have worried, because they handled the ale much better than most of the men. Soon the Golden Hall rang with laughter and chatter as ale flowed steadily. It didn't take very long for mothers to take their youngest children back to their homes in the city, but the oldest were allowed to stay and eat as much as they wanted. All welcomed a feast thrown by the king, and all would take advantage of it. "Will you dance with us, Maelith?" Merry asked with a wide grin.

"Gladly, my lords," she replied, setting her goblet down. She'd barely drank any of the wine, which prevented anyone from offering her a tankard of ale. The two immediately grabbed her pale hands and pulled her into a clear section of the floor. They launched into a song, and Maelith quickly caught the rhythm. It was easy to swing around Pippin before he passed her off to Merry. People around them clapped, not always to the beat, but Maelith found herself laughing anyway.

Eventually, Eomer spun her away, and she watched delightedly as the two Hobbits just kept on dancing, now with each other. The two best friends were ridiculously in sync, and Eomer praised them for it before he led Maelith to a side table. There she found Legolas standing with brows furrowed over a drunken Gimli. "This is nothing, laddie," the Dwarf told Eomer as the lord accepted another tankard. "I'll wager the pointy ear over here can't hold his liquor," he declared, taking another swig of the frothy drink in his hands.

"I accept you wager, Master Dwarf. Shall it be you against Master Elf, here?" the king's nephew asked.

"Challenged accepted! It's the Dwarves who brew the meanest ales in all of Middle Earth!" Gimli cried, and the men around him cheered. Clearly they appreciated a drinking contest, even if one of the contestants had no idea what was happening.

Maelith drew out a chair beside Legolas, and he looked down at her with one dark eyebrow arched. "There's no pauses, no spills," Eomer declared once he'd drawn two tankards of ale from a barrel beside him. He handed one across the table to the Elf and one down to the Dwarf, a small smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"And no regurgitation," Gimli said, his already drunken eyes boring insect-like into the mug in his hands. The men cheered, laughing, as Maelith leaned away from him, slightly disgusted.

"So, it's a drinking game?" Legolas asked. He looked down at Maelith, and she nodded her dark head, her blue eyes meeting his worriedly. Surely Gimli would drink himself into oblivion before Legolas was even drunk.

"Last one standing wins," Gimli chuckled. Legolas looked around, still confused, but the men only laughed and raised their own drinks to their already loose mouths. With a grunt, the Dwarf raised his tankard towards Legolas then began to chug the ale.

Clearly wary, Legolas raised the tankard as Maelith watched. "It smells odd," he breathed to her before he started to drink. She covered a giggle with her long white fingers, and her ring glinted in the firelight. Idly turning the ring with her other hand, she kept watchful count as the Elf set down mug after mug on the table. Eventually Eomer resorted to taking already used mugs from each's count to refill instead of stealing anymore from other tables. Gimli got drunker and drunker, but Legolas still stood steady on his feet beside Maelith. The she-Elf crinkled her nose when Gimli lifted himself to his feet and farted and she saw Eomer look at him incredulously as he laughed drunkenly.

She had to be honest. The scent of ale, smoke, and body odor in the room had begun to take on a bitter, acid like stench, and Maelith knew several people had thrown up already. It was starting to make her stomach knot, but she refused to walk away from her friends in their drinking game. From there she could also hear Pippin and Merry, and had caught glimpses of Aragorn and Gandalf. Neither were drinking very much, though they appeared to be enjoying themselves.

"Oh, it's the Dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women," Gimli remarked as Legolas swallowed another mouthful of the wheat ale. He belched as Maelith cringed away from him, and Legolas set a hand on her shoulder.

"I feel something," the Elf said worriedly. He was staring down at his fingers and Maelith reached up to cover the hand on her shoulder with her own. There was a steady warmth pulsing from his hand, and the girl found it drove back some of the sorrow, allowing her to carry her burden more easily on her shoulders. Eomer raised his eyebrows; it was the first sign of drunkenness in the Elf. "A slight tingle in my fingers," the silver haired archer told him, "I think it's effecting me." Maelith burst out laughing at the look on his face, but she could not help it. Men did not even notice the tingling in their fingers after their first beer, and he was at twenty-three mugs of ale.

Laughing triumphantly, Gimli plopped his mug down with a clink and Maelith took in the broad line of froth caught in his beard. "What did I say? He can't hold his liquor," the Dwarf slurred before his eyes crossed and he toppled over backwards with a crash.

"Game over," Legolas said to Eomer, shrugging. The Marshal of the Riddermark stared at him incredulously and with nothing short of awe. Maelith sighed and got to her feet, knowing that drinking game would go down in the tales of Rohan. "What should we do with him?" he asked her quietly as he moved to stand over Gimli.

"Perhaps you ought to put him to bed. I will keep an eye on the others as I have," she assured him, quickly tugging one of his braids. He smiled softly at her boldness as she slipped into the crowd, following the sound of Pippin and Merry singing once more. He watched until she found Eowyn, then lifted Gimli off the floor. The Dwarf was not so heavy for an Elf, but any human would have been surprised by his weight.

Maelith joined in the clapping as she watched her two little friends start a new song to dance atop the table, and she leaned over one man's shoulder to snag two pieces of bread from a wooden platter. As she turned away to return to Eowyn's side, she felt a fleshy hand slap across her backside and whirled, affronted. But before she could open her mouth, Aragorn stepped between the two of them, his cold glare fixed on the soldier. "Lord Aragorn," the man stuttered. The dark haired warrior did not even bother with a reply, instead slipped his arm around Maelith's shoulders and turned her away.

"I think it is time you retired elsewhere, Maelith, if you will not sleep," Aragorn sighed to her. "Théoden will send them all to their beds soon enough. I will keep an eye on Merry and Pippin for you," he told her.

"Very well," she murmured, having already noticed men stumbling drunkenly as they leaned on each other to retire to their houses in the village or guest chambers in the hall. She retrieved only her cloak from Eowyn's room and found the chambers to be full of slumbering women and children. It did not surprise her to learn that the lady had given up her room for the night, for there were a number of children asleep in the bed. As she ghosted across the room, her footsteps soundless on the wooden floor, she noticed how young these children were. It pained her to remember that their older brothers had all died in the Battle of the Hornburg and now lay beneath the earth at Helm's Deep.

With her cloak pulled around her shoulders and hood up against a soft breeze, she found herself seated outside Museheld. Her legs hung over the edge of the foundation that the Golden Hall had been built upon, though she did not fear the measly drop below her. Dark across the plains were the snowcapped White Mountains and clouds rolled across the night sky. Neither moon nor stars shone down upon her and for the light she longed. The darkness only echoed the weight she carried, and it held no pleasant memories for her.

"_Fly, Canneth, faster even than the winds of the great storms. Your burden must be yours alone, for none may know of what you carry, save your father. You must bring these to him and then you must sing for the fall of Eregion. Do you understand me?" the dark haired lord before her asked. _

"_But, my lord, what will happen to you?" she asked, her voice still light with youth. There was a dark blue cloak about her, covering battle worn clothes and light leather armor, though it did not conceal the long bow favored by her people on her back. A silver chain hung about her neck, though it disappeared beneath her shirt, hiding away the two rings she could feel burning against her chest. _

"_I suspect Sauron will send his troops and that I shall fall to his hands," the master smith told her. _

"_Please, my lord, will you not fly with me? Will you so surely face your death and even torment?" she cried, her voice knotted and strained with anguish. _

"_No, my dear Canneth, I cannot. You must go now, and you must keep the Rings hidden," he ordered, his silver circlet flashing in the light of a brazier. There were no stars or moon above her and she shivered inside her cloak. "Go!" he cried, bringing his hand down upon the rump of the dark horse she rode._

_The horse bolted and the girl instinctively directed him towards the clearest area, which happened to be the gates. "No!" the scream of anguish tore free as she looked back. Her eyes met the silver ones of the Lord of Eregion and she let out a wail of anger and despair, but she could not bring her horse to turn around. "Celebrimbor!"_

A whisper of cloth caught her attention and she turned to see Legolas approaching. He too was cloaked and hooded, but he did not sit. Instead he stood beside her, silently offering his strength to her as his knee brushed her shoulder. They stayed there, both lost in thought, as the hall slowly fell into sleep behind them.

Dawn had not yet even lightened the sky when a set of human footsteps trained in the light art of stealth alerted the pair to the approach of someone. Accompanying the sound was the smell of pipe-weed, and neither had to turn to know it was Aragorn. "The stars are veiled," Legolas said as their friend came to stand beside him. "Something stirs in the East, a sleepless malice," the silver haired one voiced his thoughts, and Maelith lifted her gaze to the pair beside her. They looked at each other and Maelith straightened. She could feel something watching, as though from afar, as a darkness gathered beyond the horizon. "The Eye of the enemy is moving," Legolas told the heir.

"He searches," she sighed, a place on her chest burning with the ghost of a memory.

They sat in silence for a moment before Legolas turned sharply and said, "He is here!" Maelith was on her feet instantly, her hand finding the knife she tucked into her cloak, and she followed the two as they ran back into the hall.

"Help! Gandalf!" Merry's voice sounded through a closed door and the three instantly turned towards it. Aragorn burst into the sleeping quarters with a yell and Maelith cried out upon seeing Pippin writhing on the floor. The seeing stone was aflame in his hands, and Aragorn took it from him instantly. Legolas caught the dark haired warrior when he fell back, overpowered, with the orb hissing like a snake in his hands.

"Aragorn, let it go!" she gasped, then sprang over him when it fell from his hands. Merry leaped out of the way of the rolling ball and she swiped it from the floor before she realized how bad an idea that was. Pain shot up her arms as her knees buckled, but she fought to hold the seeing stone out to Gandalf as he hurried to her.

The wizard threw a blanket over it and she let it down onto the floor, falling sideways as she heard him cry, "Fool of a Took!" Men woken by their voices lifted her to her feet as Aragorn sat up. Legolas was quick to take her by the arms and draw her aside while they watched. Gandalf knelt over a frozen Pippin, taking his limp hand in both of his. Aragorn and Maelith both leaned on Legolas as they stood over Merry, but the Hobbit took Maelith's now cold hand in his. They all sighed in relief when Pippin gasped, though Maelith found her ears ringing too much to hear as the Hobbit spoke.

"What did you see?" Gandalf asked.

"A tree. There was a white tree, in a courtyard of stone. It was dead. The city was burning," the long haired Halfling told him. Maelith blinked, slipping her freezing hand into Legolas's, and he turned to her, eyes wide in concern. Meeting Aragorn's eyes, he pulled her away, swiping a blanket off Gandalf's bed as he passed.

The first rays of dawn were falling through the windows as they returned to the Golden Hall and he was relieved to find Eowyn's settee empty and moved aside. He sat her down on it, wrapping the blanket about her shoulders and took a seat beside her. Holding both of her hands in his, he noticed the ring she still wore, but did not think much of it. His main concern then was warming her. Elves were not meant to handle the tools of the dark art and had great negative effects on them, as Maelith was now experiencing_. "Did you see anything?"_ he asked her quietly.

"_I saw only fire and heard only the hiss of flames,"_ she assured him. She did not understand why she was so cold. The seeing stone had burned her, as the One Ring had, as the Rings in her memory had done. He nodded, rubbing her hands between his own as the sun rose through the windows. Soon their friends and the king gathered in the hall. All were fully dressed. Even Gimli was awake, if not entirely alert.

Once they'd eaten breakfast, Maelith removed the blankets from her shoulders and moved to stand on Aragorn other's side. They left it to Gandalf to explain to Théoden what had happened. "And you believe him?" the king asked. Maelith lifted her head, her blue eyes fixing on the king in anger. Pippin wouldn't lie, especially not to Gandalf. He wasn't even in the condition to think about trying to trick anyone or pulling some kind of mischief.

The wizard replied with, "There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool, but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and The Ring." With a glance at Pippin, he went on, "We have been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Valencia a glimpse the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith." Between Legolas and Maelith, Aragorn bowed his head, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line. "His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He now knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this," Gandalf told Aragorn. Then he turned once more to Théoden and said, "He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the Throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."

"Tell me, why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours?" The king asked. Gandalf tilted his head, clearly not expecting such open resistance from Théoden, but the man was not done. Aragorn lifted his chin from his hand, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the king of Rohan, and Maelith set one still cold hand on his arm. "What do we owe Gondor?" Théoden asked.

Aragorn took a deep breath then offered, "I will go."

"No!" Gandalf snapped.

"They must be warned," the ranger protested.

"They will be," the wizard assured him. Gandalf moved to stand before the heir, saying quietly so that only Aragorn was meant to hear, "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river; look to the black ships." As he turned around he continued, louder, saying, "Understand this; things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith." Then he looked to the Hobbits and said, "And I won't be going alone."

"When you leave?" Legolas asked quietly.

"Now," the White Wizard decided. Instantly Maelith hurried forward and wrapped her arms around Pippin before Gandalf ushered him out the door with Merry trailing. She looked after them, her shoulders slumping. Now all they could do was wait.


	12. Ghost of Laughter

**Author's Note: Thanks to Die for Pie and Wollerosekaufn for reviewing! Also, to Samuel La Flame: Wow. You pretty much just told me exactly what I wanted Maelith to be! That was how I wanted her character to fit into the fold, and you nailed it! It's amazing! I'm so honored that you understood! **

**Also, this chapter is kind of a filler for Gandalf's time in Gondor, so it's full of memories and thoughts and questions. Hopefully, I'll give plenty of you answers you were looking for!**

Chapter 12

"_Who are you to carry the authority of the signet of the High King?" the silver haired king asked her flatly. His blue eyes bored into hers from beneath the tall silver crown laced with the red leaves of autumn. _"_Who are you to request the lives of my people?" he demanded, standing from his Elk antler throne beneath the ancient trees. "Who are you to demand I go to war?" All around the throne room stood the king's personal guard, draped in red and armed with dark bows and various blades. Each was clearly Silvan, some with red or auburn hair, others with light brown, and some even with pale gold. Their cold eyes, some green, some brown, were watching her every move. _

"_I am known by my people as Maelith of Lindon and I am the daughter of Gil-galad, High King of the Elves of Middle-Earth," she replied calmly. Her voice did not falter, nor did her gaze ever waver. One look from the king had the Elf standing beside the stairs walking towards her and she noticed that he was nearly identical to Oropher, the king before her. _

"_Your signet, please, Princess Maelith," the Prince of Greenwood requested quietly. _

"_Of course, Prince Thranduil," she replied, slipping the elegant, intricate ring off her right hand. _

Glancing down at the silver ring on her right hand, she covered it with her other hand as she stood before the Golden Hall. Her blue eyes were fixed on the plains, watching as the white form of Shadowfax and Gandalf grew smaller in the distance. She knew Pippin was hidden in front of Gandalf, but she was not thinking of the little Hobbit. She was thinking instead of the fact that in her memory she had met Legolas's father when he was still the Prince. What had happened to his grandfather, King Oropher? What war had she requested he aid her in? Where was her father, King Gil-galad? And what had become of Lord Celebrimbor after she'd fled Eregion? What rings had she carried to her father?

Her memories might have begun to return, but she still knew nothing of her past. She knew she had lived in both Lindon and Eregion, but didn't know where those kingdoms were or what had happened to them. All she had was a name for her father, with no memories of him or what he was like. And now she had to explain to Legolas and Aragorn the memories that were returning, leaving her with more questions than answers.

Clouds rolled in across the sky around mid-day, but she did not look up. Instead she gazed out across the plains, seeing not grass and rivers but a battle fought long ago. _Wind rippled across the field, drawing out the banners held aloft on either side. Black, gray, and orange flew high before the Black Gates of Mordor while above Maelith flew silver, blue, gold, green, and white. Silence fell like a blanket across the armies, and Maelith quickly looked around. She'd only just arrived to the Bagorlad fields, leading what beasts and Ents had followed her from Lorien. _

_To her left were the Dwarves. They stood with heavy axes and some swords ready, flying the brown banners of Moria. At their head stood Durin IV. Spread among them were a number of good beasts and the birds who'd answered Gil-galad's summons. Ents, furious with the destruction of the garden of the Ent-wives, were armed and ready for war._

_Sauron's answer for the might of the Dwarves were the swarthy Easterlings beneath the gray banners. From Mordor he had created trolls to combat the magnificent strength of the Ents. _

_To her right were the Men. Beneath the white banner of Gondor were the Numenoreans, led by Elendil's son Anarion. The cream banner of Arnor drifted above the forces of Elendil and his elder son Isildur. Most of the humans were armed with swords, though the front lines bore spears and similar pole weapons. _

_Against them stood the Dark Numenoreans and their black flags. _

_Before her were the Elves. Beneath the green banner of Greenwood stood Oropher. His company was the lightest armed, with long knives instead of swords, though their bows were made of the darkest woods. Beside them flew the silver banner of Lorien. Amdir, their king, held command over the Galadhrim, who bore the tallest bows of light wood and long swords. Next came the solid blue banner of Rivendell. Elrond led those that had survived the fall of Eregion alongside the forces from Lindon, armed mostly with straight swords and spears and shields. _

_The Dark Lord knew well the greatness of the Elves. Orcs stood ready in overwhelming hordes beside the Haradrim archers. Orange banners of the desert flew above them._

_But at the front of it all, where the silver banner of Lindon flew, stood the High King of Elves. Gil-galad had no idea what his daughter had done, but at the very rear of the force, three white horses had appeared. "How many strong do we stand?" Pethvain of Greenwood asked her prince. _

"_Over hundreds of thousands, but it is not yet half of the forces of Mordor," Thranduil, heir of the throne of Greenwood replied._

"_Do the banners fly?" Canneth of Lorien turned to the prince on her other side. _

"_Gold and blue flies from end to end," Amroth, son of Amdir assured her. _

"_Then I must join my father. He must know we were successful," Maelith, Lady of Lindon, decided. "Go to your kings. Listen for the horn of the High King," she added. The two silver haired males nodded and turned their horses to ride away. Maelith watched them each disappear among their troops and spurred her horse forward. When she reached her father she slid from the saddle and called, "Ada?" He turned from the battle field, his bright silver eyes sad upon seeing her. _

_She felt his hand smooth over her braided hair before he pressed a kiss to her forehead and placed his own helm on her head. He wore his golden circlet, along with gold and blue armor. His shield was in his hand, his long spear, Aeglos, in the other. In a soft voice, one not trying to turn her from the battle, he told her, "They stand millions strong, my hope."_

"What happened to you, Ada? Where are you?" she breathed into the wind. "Why can I not remember?"

"Maelith?" Legolas's voice stirred her from her perch. She turned to see him standing behind her, armed once more. "Are you alright?"

"Shadows grow in the South," she sighed. "Waiting for a signal that may never come is eating at my heart," she admitted.

"Come it will. Gandalf will not fail us," he assured her, stepping up to her side. The day had long sunk into night, twice now, and still Maelith had not left this spot. When he stood beside her, he understood why. From there he could see where Aragorn kept watch for the beacons of Gondor to be lit.

"Legolas, did your father ever tell you of the Battle of Dagorlad?" she asked after a long moment of silence.

"I have heard many stories of it, yes," he told her. One of his eye brows rose in surprise that she knew of the battle.

"I have a memory of the eve of the battle, when I stood beside your father, but of nothing afterwards. Same does it feel now. Upon the edge of battle we stand and yet we know not what will come," she explained.

"You fought in the Battle of Dagorlad?" he asked. That would make her older than him by hundreds of years at least.

"Remember only that I was there; I know not if I fought," the girl said, turning her face back towards the mountains as the sun rose over them. She closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth, then looked back at him. "There was a great silence for many hours. I stood at my father's side, his helm on my head, looking out at odds we should not have been able to beat," she sighed, her eyes dark with memory.

"Your father?" he asked quietly. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice that made her smile sadly. "Truly then, Sarumon destroyed your memory when he sent you away," he realized.

She nodded, then turned to look back at the mountains. "Let us return inside," she murmured after a moment. "Aragorn will let all of Edoras know when the beacon is lit," she smiled softly once more, throwing a fond look to where their friend sat in watch. Legolas nodded and opened the door for her, following as she joined Gimli and Merry at a table off to the side. At the front of the room, Théoden and his captains poured over maps and documents, but of what he did not care to know.

The sun had lit the Golden Hall when Aragorn threw open the doors with a crash. "The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he cried, running forward. Instantly Legolas was on his feet as the man cried, "The beacons are lit!" Maelith came to stand beside him, her cold fingers wrapping around his wrist as Aragorn ran up to Théoden and gasped, "Gondor calls for aid."

Eowyn moved from where she had sat beside Maelith to stand alongside her brother. Everyone in the hall was watching the king and the Elves fixed blue eyes on him in a challenge. "And Rohan will answer," Théoden told Aragorn. "Muster the Rohirrim!" he ordered Eomer. "Lady Maelith!" he called as the friends turned to run from the hall. She faced the king, expecting to be told she was not going, only for him to say, "Perhaps you should change from my niece's dress before you ride to war."

Maelith let out a bell like laugh, bringing smiles to the humans' faces before she nodded and hurried out. Eowyn was just behind her, hands flying down the laces of the dress as soon as the door closed behind her. She watched, laughing, as Maelith danced about the room, pulling on her cleaned leggings, shirts, socks, boots, tunic, cloak, and quiver. "Will you ride with us?" she asked the White Lady when she was done.

"I will not be allowed in battle, but I can ride to the encampment. There is a tradition for the women of the Court that I might use to get me there," Théoden's niece replied.

"Allowed or not, sure I am that you will find a way to ride with us," Maelith murmured. "I will pretend I know nothing of the sword you intend to smuggle out on your saddle," she added in a soft voice.

"Thank you," Eowyn sighed. The women shared a secretive grin as they hurried for the stables. Saddling their respective horses took little time, and Maelith helped Eowyn hide her sword beneath a blanket on her saddle.

Then she led Hasufel from his stall and moved up to Legolas's side. "Will you hold him? I must find Merry," she told her silver haired friend. He nodded, taking her reins and she slipped through the lines of foot soldiers to run back up the stairs of Museheld. When she heard Théoden's voice, she turned, and stopped short. Merry nearly ran right into her in his excitement once the king of Rohan accepted his sword. She stepped aside with a smile, then looked up to meet the dark eyes of the king. He turned away and she darted back down the stairs to take her reins from an already mounted Legolas.

"Horsemen," Gimli grumbled from behind the Elf as she swung into her saddle. "I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy." Maelith shook her head, remembering the tens of thousands of Dwarves she looked over on the plains before the Gates of Mordor. She was sure the Dwarves had been filthy then too.

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war," Legolas told him. It was then that Maelith could appreciate the differences in their voices. Gimli's was deep, rumbling, and raspy, fir for a man of the mines. True to the people of the Light, Legolas had a smoother, lighter voice that flowed when he spoke, as he did now, "I fear war already marches on their own lands." Maelith exchanged a glance with him before she spotted the banner over his shoulder. The white horse was set on black and bordered by red, a fitting emblem for the people of Rohan. As the wind snapped it out on its pole, she had another memory, one where gold and blue banners flew in a gentle breeze above a quiet city.

Once everyone had fallen into their lines, Eomer yelled, "Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken, now fulfill them all! To Lord and Land!" A great cheer rose up from the riders and foot soldiers alike, and Théoden rode to the front of the column. Beside him went Eomer, Aragorn, and Legolas, leaving Eowyn, Maelith, and the two captains to fall in behind him. Merry was in there somewhere, though Maelith could not see him.

"Maelith, a song perhaps?" Eowyn asked her, her blonde hair streaming behind her.

Maelith smiled at her, then cast her mind about for a fitting song. "Sound the bugle now. Play it just for me. As the seasons change remember how I used to be. Now I can't go on. I can't even start. I've got nothing left, just an empty heart. I'm a solder, wounded so I must give up the fight. There's nothing more for me, lead me away, or leave me lying here," she sang as loud as she could, casting her voice back along the column for all the riders to hear her above the thundering of hooves. The memory of Haldir's voice sang with her, and for a moment, she could hear the ghost of his laughter.

"Sound the bugle now. Tell them I don't care. There's not a road I know, that leads to anywhere. Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark. Lay right down and decide not to go on," she went on. As she sang, Boromir's deep voice echoed in the wind and she thought she saw a legion of riders in silver armor crossing a plain. Above them flew the black flag of Gondor's steward, but when she blinked, they were gone.

"Then from on high, somewhere in the distance, there's a voice that calls, remember who you are. If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow. So be strong tonight. Remember who you are." This time she could see Sam, climbing slowly down a steep staircase of black stone. There were tears in his eyes, and she wished he could hear her.

"Yeah, you're a soldier now, fighting in a battle, to be free once more. Yeah, that's worth fighting for," her voice carried in the breeze, and everyone's heads came up. Even if it was just those two sentences they'd heard, they could appreciate the beauty of the Elf's voice, and her words stirred something in them that had been lost at Helm's Deep. Somehow, the burden on Maelith's shoulders seemed lighter. It was as if singing for everyone had brought back Boromir and Haldir and she could forgive herself for letting them die.

When they rode into the encampment, Maelith followed Aragorn and Legolas through the lines of white tents. She rode beside Eowyn, both of them starting to take tallies in their heads of the troops they saw. "Grimbol, how many?" Théoden asked one captain.

"Five hundred men from the Westfold, my lord," the man called back. Eowyn winced beside her; many soldiers had been killed trying to defend their villages from the Wildmen of Sarumon.

"We have three hundred more from Dunbar, Théoden King," another called.

"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" the king asked.

"None have come, my lord," someone told him.

Maelith glanced at Eowyn at that; the Lady was worried. They'd yet to see Eomer. But when Maelith saw the narrow, zig-zagging path she was going to have to ride up to get to the command post, she couldn't do it. "Aragorn!" she called. "_Go up there I cannot." _

But it was not Aragorn who responded. Legolas slowed Arod, grabbed Hasufel's reins, and pulled the sorrel after him. "_I promised you I would not let you fall," _he reminded her, and she swallowed, looking up the cliff. "Look only at me," he instructed.

"We've got you, lass," Gimli assured her, though he was holding Legolas's belt to keep from sliding from the saddle as they began the ascent.

She nodded and an idea struck her. "When you walk through the storm, hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of the light. Walk on, through the wind, walk on through the rain. Though your dreams be tossed and blown," she sang quietly at first, her voice wavering with her fear. Aragorn glanced down at her from above and saw how she clenched at her saddle. He sighed, having forgotten her fear.

"Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart. And you'll never walk alone. You will not walk alone," now her voice spread over the camp. It was stronger, her fear having faded to the background as she sang.

"When you walk through the storm, hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky and the sweet silver song of the light. Walk on, through the wind, walk on through the rain. Though your dreams be tossed and blown." This time her voice was steady, drifting on the wind down the mountain. "Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart. And you'll never walk alone. And you'll never walk alone." Though her fear was at least somewhat controlled, she dared not glance from Legolas.

"You will not walk alone. Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart and you'll never walk alone. You will not walk…you'll never walk alone." By the time she finished, they were dismounting at the top of the hill, and Maelith hurried away from the edge. She used the excuse of finding Eowyn's tent to run ahead of Legolas and she was relieved to find Eomer. When she did, she noticed how the horses stirred and fought their bindings, neighing and calling out as though they were uneasy.

"The horses are restless," Legolas said from behind her and she turned to see the Elf and the Dwarf. "And the men are quiet."

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer explained quietly. He was definitely not excluded, for he grimaced when he looked up at the mountain. Maelith looked up and the words of a memory returned. It was an oath, one of vengeance and unrest in the face of betrayal.

"That road there. Where does that lead?" Gimli asked. Maelith turned around to see a narrow road cut into the mountain itself, cut like a white thread through the dark stone.

"It is the road to the Dimholt," Legolas told them. "The door under the mountain."

"None who've entered there ever return," Eomer told Gimli. "That mountain is evil."

When the lord of Rohan turned away, Maelith noticed Aragorn standing far closer to the mountain than they. "Gimli, get Aragorn. See if you cannot find him something decent to eat," she murmured, gesturing to their friend. Once the Dwarf had moved off, Legolas turned to her, a question clear in his eyes. "We stand on Dunharrow, overlooking Harrowdale. There is the road to Dimholt, and beyond that the Paths of the Dead under the Dwimorberg mountain, yes?" she asked. He nodded and she sighed, looking up at the mountain. "This is a dark place to spend the night," she remarked.

"You have remembered something?" he asked.

"Words only of vengeance," she sighed, "Though speak them I did not."

He touched her arm gently, then followed after Gimli and Aragorn. He could tell that there was more on Maelith's mind and knew she wanted to be alone. It did not surprise him to hear her voice drift across Dunharrow, though when he looked he saw that she sang to the horses. She was calmly them slowly, and he noticed that the men nearest her seemed a bit less tense. As he watched her, a thought came to mind. _'Men fall so easily to enchantment, though even I have fallen to this one. Her voice is too beautiful to resist. Truly a white rose she is, blooming even in the dark hours. Lucky am I to have her at my back.'_

**AN: Songs are Sound the Bugle from the Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron and You'll Never Walk Alone from Celtic Woman: Believe. Please review!**


	13. Undead Fog

**Author's Note: Just thought I'd say that I love my readers. And to Samuel La Flame: Once again, you astound me. I loved the idea of Elendil charging Sauron after he killed Gil-galad, and I always considered Aragorn Elendil's heir, not Isildur's, and wanted to recreate that in Aragorn and Maelith. I just can't believe you figured it out too! It's amazing! I'm so flattered! To A Rose Quartz: Doesn't it fit perfectly with that scene? I'm a huge Celtic Woman fan :)**

Chapter 13

Maelith was sitting cross legged in the grass as close to the edge of the cliff as she dared. From there she could look out over the encampment of Rohan's soldiers and still listen to the command post behind her. Plus she was close enough to Eowyn's tent that she could easily keep an eye on Merry while she looked after Aragorn.

"To the smithy, go!" Eowyn encouraged, sending Merry out through her tent door. The White Lady smiled after him, and Maelith watched him hurry across the camp. It saddened her to see such a joyful, innocent person clad in armor and bearing an apparently dull blade.

"You should not encourage him," Eomer told his sister. He was sitting before a fire with one of his captains. Maelith was a little miffed to realize she couldn't tell any of the captains apart from each other.

"You should not doubt him," the Lady of Rohan replied.

"I do not doubt his heart," he assured her, "only the reach of his arm." Beside him, the captain laughed quietly and Maelith had to grit her teeth. Why were Dwarves, Hobbits and women always doubted? They had all fought to found their own cultures and save their own people. Maelith knew for a fact that Eowyn had seen combat in the Battle of Helm's Deep when the orcs had gotten through the keep behind their horses. She had single-handedly defended her people while they fled up the passage into the mountains.

"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you," Eowyn asked her brother. "Why can he not fight for those he loves?"

Now Maelith risked looking back, and saw that Eomer understood. Eowyn no longer meant Merry, but used his name instead of her own. As she went to go back into her tent, Eomer stood, turning to Eowyn. "You know as little of war as that Hobbit. When the fear takes him, and the blood, and the screams, and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight?" the Marshal asked his younger sister. Maelith sighed as she watched the two of them. Merry was brave, all the Hobbits were. They could take care of themselves, unlike what Eomer believed. "He would flee, and he would be right to do so." Eomer put his hand on his sister's shoulder before he continued, "War is the province of men, Eowyn." Then he returned to his seat beside his captain, leaving Eowyn to turn with a swish of her skirt and duck into her tent.

Gimli and Merry went to bed soon after, and she watched Legolas follow them into the tent. But she did not join Eowyn until she heard Aragorn ready himself for the night. But her friend did not sleep well, tossing and turning his head as he mumbled in Elvish. She was throwing off her blanket to check on him when a guard appeared at the tent door. "Lady Maelith, King Théoden would like to speak to you," the man whispered. Eowyn did not stir as the Elven girl rose and pulled on her boots. She did not bother to put her jerkin or cloak back on, nor took any weapons, but her left hand subconsciously checked that the ring still rested on her right hand. Outside her tent, she followed Aragorn to the guarded pavilion Théoden was housed in. Apparently the king wished to see him too, because the guard held aside the flaps for them.

Inside, Aragorn stopped, and Maelith moved to his side to see why. Théoden stood before a seated and cloaked stranger. "I take my leave," the king told them, meeting Aragorn's eyes grimly. The blonde man already knew what the stranger had come to say to Aragorn, and did not like it, but he did not speak as he left his own pavilion.

The stranger stood, revealing brown Elven clothes as the dark cloak parted. He lowered the hood, uncovering the dark hair of a Noldor and the proud face of one Maelith knew. Beside her, Aragorn bowed forward, lowering his head as he said, "My Lord Elrond."

"I come on behalf on one whom I love," the lord of Imladris said. "Arwen is dying," he explained to Aragorn. Maelith felt him stiffen and touched his arm gently, trying only to offer strength. Elrond glanced at her as he continued, "She will not long survive the evil that spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing." Maelith leaned around Aragorn's shoulder to look at Arwen's jewel and saw that the once glowing white had faded to dull silver. Grief washed over her; she remembered Arwen and her beauty. "As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of The Ring. The shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come," Elrond finished.

"It will not be our end but his," Aragorn replied, and Maelith looked over at him proudly.

"You ride to war but not to victory," Elrond told him sadly. "Sauron's armies march on Miras Tirith as you know, but in secret he sends another force which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sails from the south. They'll be in the city in two days."

"Two days?" Maelith whispered, her stomach dropping. The odds were stacked even higher against them now.

Elrond nodded to her and said, "You're outnumbered, Aragorn. You need more men."

"There are none," the man told him, his voice softer.

"There are those who dwell in the mountain," the Elf Lord reminded him hesitantly.

Maelith took a step back as the wind swirled around them, making the pavilion flap. Her long hair billowed in front of her shoulders, checked only by her braids. The words of vengeance shot through her mind once more as Aragorn hissed, "Murderers. Traitors. You would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one."

"They will answer to the King of Gondor," Elrond replied, throwing his cloak aside as he drew a long blade from his side. He held the sheathed weapon in two hands, neither on the handle, and Maelith recognized the hilt.

"Elendil," she breathed, remembering the High King's war cry when he had lifted that sword.

"Behold Anduril, Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil," Elrond said, stepping forward.

Aragorn moved forward and took the offered sword. As he lifted it upright, he said, "Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil."

When he hesitated to draw it, Maelith murmured, "The sword belongs to you, Aragorn, heir of Elendil." This earned her a proud look from silver eyes and a ringing hiss as Anduril was drawn. Standing behind Aragorn, Maelith nodded; that sword was meant to be wielded by Aragorn and no other.

"The blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith," Aragorn said, his gaze fixed upon the seven star device set in the blade.

"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth," Elrond told him. "Put aside the Ranger, become who you were born to be. Take the Dimholt road." When Aragorn looked away, he added, "_Ónen i-estel edain." 'I gave hope to the Dúnedain.'_

Aragorn looked down at the sword in his hand and replied,_ "Ú-chebin estel anim." 'I have kept no hope for myself.'_

"But you have kept her with you," Elrond pointed out, looking to Maelith over Aragorn's shoulder as he sheathed Anduril. "You were named for her, Aragorn," he added.

The two glanced at each other and Aragorn murmured, "Estel."

Maelith's eyes went wide and she looked to Elrond. _"Come, Esteleth! Shoot with us!" Elladan called as he and Elrohir ran from the table. She glanced at Lord Elrond for permission, and when he nodded, darted after them with a grin._

"I named you both for what you are; the hope of your people. Estel and Esteleth, the heirs of Elendil and Gil-galad, the High Kings of Men and Elves," Elrond told them. Both of them were speechless, and Elrond moved to stand before Maelith. He took her hands and raised his eyebrows when he found them to be cold. "You are cold," he remarked.

"We had an incident with the Palantir," Aragorn explained, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"It is good to see you well, my dear," Elrond told her, touching the ring on her hand. "As it is good to see the ring of your father's house once more."

"It was my father's? Then this is the ring of my grandfather, Fingon, and his father, Fingolfin?" she asked softly. She was examining the ring, and finding upon it twelve stars, and she remembered the same insignia on her father's shield. He nodded and kissed her forehead, sensing the great turmoil and anger within her. She so badly wanted to remember, but he could not help her. Then she turned to Aragorn and said, "Well, Estel, will we take the Dimholt road?"

"I will not ask you to come with me, Esteleth," he replied. Neither was aware of the sad, fond smile Elrond was giving the two he'd raised as his own.

"And still I will come," she told him, reaching up to cover his hand on her shoulder. "We shall honor our fathers' alliance once more," she declared, and Aragorn gave her a sad smile.

"Go and gather your things. We ride for the Dimholt in ten minutes," he decided.

She nodded, bowed quickly to Lord Elrond, her father's herald, the bearer of Vilya, and slipped out of the pavilion. She went first to Legolas's tent, where he met her outside. "Gimli and I will ride with you. Merry has agreed to stay with Eomer and Eowyn," he told her quietly. Clearly he had listened to the entire conversation within the pavilion, but she did not fault him. Relieved, the girl reached up and touched her finger tips to his cheek before she slipped away. It did not take long to saddle Hasufel, though she was careful to recheck everything in the darkness of the night.

Unfortunately, Eowyn was awake when she entered the tent. "What are you doing?" The White Lady of Rohan asked.

Maelith turned to her once she straightened her jerkin, pulling her cloak on as she did. "I ride for the Dimholt road with Aragorn," she told the woman.

"But why?" the lady exclaimed, shocked.

"He is the heir of Isildur," Maelith explained, fastening her quiver in place. She watched the lady turn and stride from their tent, then moved back out to Hasufel and led him through the tents.

Legolas fell in beside her, and they exchanged a smirk when Gimli stopped Aragorn. "And where do you think you're off to?" the Dwarf asked.

"Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli," Aragorn replied.

Gimli hummed and Legolas and Maelith moved up on Aragorn's other side. The heir turned and his eyes scolded Maelith for alerting Legolas and Gimli of their departure. "Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" Legolas asked.

"You might as well accept it. We're going with you, laddie," Gimli told him. Maelith saw the faint smile in Aragorn's eyes as he accepted the three of them, and no one spoke as they mounted the three horses.

Maelith fell in at the rear, allowing her to see all of the soldiers as they left their tents to watch Aragorn leave. She heard many of them muttering as they rode by, and she was far enough back to meet Théoden's eyes when he left Eomer's tent. The king nodded to her, understanding, though it was clear his men did not. Aragorn had already vanished into the darkness of the road, and Legolas was soon behind him when someone cried, "Lord Aragorn!" She bowed her head as the fog closed around her, but did not look back. It was enough to know that Théoden would take care of it and that Merry was as safe as he could be.

The fog and darkness chilled her enough to force her hood up over her hair, and she did not lower it even once the sun rose. The white stone around them was eerie and crumbly, as lifeless and cruel as the spirits she could feel lingering. "What king of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked. His voice was loud in the silence, and Maelith started at the sound. Hasufel jerked stumbled beneath her, and she relaxed her clenched grip on her reins. It did her mount no good to give in to her unease.

"One that is cursed," Legolas told him. "Long ago the men of the mountains swore an oath to the Last King of Gondor. To come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's time was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge." Then Legolas's voice changed, and Maelith guessed his eyes were fixed on Aragorn. "Who shall call them from the great twilight? The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the north shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

A memory came to Maelith then, of a time she had stood in Minas Anor with Meneldil as Isildur planted with Second White Tree in honor of Anarion. After the death of Elendil, she had gone with his heir, hoping to make him see reason and allow her to take the One Ring back to the fires of Mount Doom. But he had refused, and she had stayed to help him put Meneldil on his brother's throne in Gondor before they returned to Arnor. Then she had accompanied him from Minas Anor, though she rode with his three sons. The youngest of the three, Ciryon, had a unique way of drawing her from her grief, though now she did not remember why she grieved then.

Soon the landscape changed. They had to dismount as the road narrowed with fir trees. Passing under one particular pine tree, Maelith shuddered, and Aragorn noticed that even Legolas was uneasy. "This is the dark wood," the girl said from the back, ducking under claw like branches. Aragorn drew Andurin as Gimli hefted his axe onto his shoulder and they pushed on through the twisted forest.

The gap in the mountainside was clear and Maelith reached behind her, drawing her bow from her quiver as they went closer. "The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away," Gimli whispered.

"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it. The way is shut," Legolas read the primitive paintings above the door as they came to a halt. A hissing wind erupted out of the doorway, knocking Maelith's hood back, and the three horses reared and broke free. Maelith did not fight Hasufel when he neighed and spun, and he was the first out of sight.

"Brego!" Aragorn called. Then he turned to the doorway and growled, "I do not fear death." Holding Andurin at his side, he strode into the fog billowing around him, right through the archway lined with skulls.

Legolas hesitated for only the time it took to lace his fingers through Maelith's. Then the pair drew a deep breath together and plunged into the darkness. Behind them they heard Gimli say, "Well this is unheard of; two Elves will go underground where a Dwarf dare not." Maelith tightened her hand subconsciously, but they did not stop. They had promised Aragorn they would follow him, so they would follow him.

Somewhere in the darkness Aragorn acquired a torch and for that Maelith was grateful. By the flickering light she could see through the fog, though she did not want to see the alcoves full of skulls. _"Do you see that?"_ she asked Legolas after the third wisp caught her eye.

"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli asked, seeing how the two looked around without stop.

"I see shapes of men, and of horses," Legolas told him.

"Where?" the Dwarf pressed.

"All around," Maelith murmured

"Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist." The Elf said. When Maelith met his eyes, they were wide, frightened even, and that did nothing to dispel her fear. "The Dead are following. They have been summoned," he added to Aragorn.

"The Dead? Summoned? I knew that. Very good. Very good. Legolas!" Gimli's cry was heard but answered as clouds swirled around them, and Maelith swallowed a scream.

Legolas pushed her behind him as the first ghostly hand rose in front of them, but he could nothing as they reached around him. As he raised his arms above the wraiths, he refused to let go of Maelith and heard her humming desperately to herself. "Do not stop," he told her quietly. Even in her throat, her voice was high pitched with fear, and he squeezed her hand. Behind them they could hear Gimli lowing the ghosts away, and Maelith looked back. Her humming grew stronger at the oddness of their situation, because Gimli was huffing and puffing and fanning the foggy hands away.

The louder her voice got, though wordless, kept the ghosts back enough that Legolas could look down, and wished he had not. Aragorn's footsteps cracked beneath him, and the man hissed, "Do not look down." Of course, once he did, Gimli and Maelith both looked. The Dwarf's footsteps went silent, which meant he had stopped, and Maelith was slightly disturbed to learn that she could finally hear herself walk because she was stepping on human skulls. A scream of horror rose in her throat and her humming cut off as she swallowed it. A whine-like sound slipped free, and Legolas drew her forward as fast as he could. Tears leaked from her eyes as they ran across the skulls, but she refused to scream her fear.

Fear had seeped into all of them, for now Aragorn was running as soon as he stepped off the skulls. The others ran after him, skidding around sharp corners, until they stumbled into a massive cavern at the edge of a cliff. They turned this way and that, but all they could see was some kind of gateway. It rose high between the rocks, layered with columns and stairs, ghastly in the sickly blue light that streamed down from somewhere above them.

Something terrible was near, she and Legolas could both feel it. Aragorn probably could too as he stood with his back to the first set of stairs. Then a raspy voice swept through the cavern, "Who enters my domain?" The demand was full of hate and anger and malice, and Aragorn whirled to the staircase. A ghost took shape there, but this was not any ghost. This was the King of the Dead, crowned and robed in his former glory, still with hair and white eyes that stared from a decayed face and sunken sockets.

"One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn told him. Maelith glanced over at Legolas when she felt his hand go slack in hers, and she saw that his eyes had narrowed calculatingly.

"The Dead do not suffer the living to pass," the Ghost King hissed.

"You will suffer me," Aragorn growled, and for a moment, Maelith could hear Isildur in his voice. The wrath of Isildur had been great, could the wrath of Aragorn be terrible?

The King of the Dead laughed, and then the laughter deepened and echoed around the cavern. They whirled to see a city of eerie green form on the rocks and Maelith released Legolas's hand to take hold of the torch Aragorn held. Ghosts marched from the city, all armed, all hungry for another death. "The way is shut," their king said, making them turn back around. Aragorn and Maelith held onto the flickering torch as the Dead King continued, "It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it." All around him, soldiers formed from the green fog, armed and robed as they had been in life. Maelith's fear caught in her throat as she forced herself to remain fixed in her stance.

The green mass glowed as they encircled the four, and Aragorn let go of the torch. He stepped in front of Maelith, pushing her into the center of the males' defensive line as the King moved closer. "The way is shut and now you must die," he sneered maliciously. Legolas fired, but the arrow went right through the ghost's forehead and clattered to the stone somewhere behind him. Maelith shivered, and dully noted that Legolas would not be getting that arrow back.

"I summon you to fulfil your oath," Aragorn told him, walking forward. Maelith held the torch high, crowning the heir in fire, and she was not afraid.

"None but the King of Gondor may command me," the King of the Dead hissed, striding towards their leader. Aragorn did not reply, but raised Andurin before him, and Maelith heard the blade ringing. With a yell the Ghost King struck Aragorn, only for two blades to clash together. Maelith smirked when she saw the ghostly blade held fast by the Flame of the West above Aragorn's head. Then the Heir of Isildur forced the ghost blade down and the King hissed, "That blade was broken."

Aragon reached forward, grabbed the King's shoulder, and held Andurin to his throat. "It has been remade," Aragorn told him quietly, though his voice was firm and steady. Then he shoved the king back and straightened. "Fight for us," he proposed to the Army of the Dead, "and regain your honor." The three behind him watched the ghosts warily as he raised his chin and asked, "What say you?"

"Aragorn," Maelith cautioned him as he moved further into the army. She moved after him, still holding the torch aloft, not liking the way the ghosts turned their skeletal faces to follow the heir.

"What say you?" he demanded to the soldiers stepping aside.

"You waste your time, Aragorn, they had no honor in life they have none now in death," Gimli snarled, eyeing the mass around him.

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me, and I will hold your oaths fulfilled," he proposed to the ghostly soldiers around him. He held Andurin out, the silver blade flashing in the torchlight, and Maelith swung around to his back to avoid the blade. "What say you?" Aragorn yelled through the cavern as he lowered the sword. The King of the Undead laughed again, and the ghosts faded back, vanishing. "You have my word!" Aragorn called, turning to watch them recede. "Fight and I will release you from this living dead!" he shouted. "What say you?"

"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli yelled, but even the green fog had withdrawn, leaving the dirt floor bare. The torch flickered out in Maelith's hand and she dropped it, startled. The metal was cold enough to sting her hands and when she held up her fingers, they were blue.

Legolas moved to her shoulder as the cavern rumbled and they looked up. Dirt began to rain down on them as the ground quaked and skulls rolled towards them, bouncing and clattering. Maelith jumped away from them with a yelp and they turned as the rocks behind them groaned. The walls on either side of the fortress crumbled and skulls poured from the gaps in great waves. "Look out," Aragorn cried, trying to get out of the way. "Run!" Aragorn ordered, turning towards the far side of the cavern. Pulling Maelith with him, he waded his way through the cascade, and Maelith reached out desperately for Gimli. When Aragorn lost his footing, she gasped and held him firm until he regained his balance. Fighting his way through the skulls, he slipped into a tunnel, dragging the she-Elf, and she reached behind her once more. Legolas threw Gimli into her grasp, and she shoved the Dwarf ahead of her.

They ran, scrambling down the tunnel as the rocks shuddered and heaved on either side. Coughing and eyes streaming from the dust, they broke out into the sunlight as the cavern collapsed behind them. Maelith winced as she slowed behind Gimli, they had gone from dust to smoke and ghosts to pirates. A fleet of cruel black ships were making their way down the river, leaving a trail of burning villages on either side of the shore. "The Corsairs," she realized, her voice hollow in her anger and fear.

To her shock, Aragorn sank to his knees in the grass, Andurin hitting the ground in defeat. It was not hard to see that he believed himself to have failed as he sighed. Legolas moved to stand beside him, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder soundlessly. Maelith knelt beside the heir as he bowed his head, and covered the large, tan hand that held Andurin with her slender, pale fingers. Their rings chimed softly as they touched and Maelith looked out over the river valley with despair.

Howling wind. Aragorn turned, rising to his feet, and Maelith stood curiously. Her chocolate hair billowed out behind her as she fixed her gaze on the mountainside, but she took a step back when the King of the Dead walked through the stone. In the sunlight the Ghost King was not so terrifying, though he was still menacing as he strode right up to Aragorn. Then he fixed his white eyes on the heir of Elendil and Isildur and declared, "We fight."


	14. The White City

**Author's Note: First to Samuel La Flame: I love it when people review, so of course I'm going to reply! I love that you take the time to let me know what you think. And I really appreciate that you keep coming back for more! Second, to Trudy: Aw, thanks!**

**Lastly, can anyone draw? Or digitally create a picture? I'd really, really love to have like fan art, or a cover I can use, but I can't draw at ALL. Like, no, not happening. So if you can, and have time, I'd love that! Let me know!**

Chapter 14

"Bring your men down to the riverbank but stay out of sight. Wait for my orders, then board their ships. Kill the mercenaries; do not mark the ships," Aragorn ordered. The Ghost King nodded and vanished back into the mountain as Aragorn began to pick his way down the hillside. The other three followed as he headed around the bend to cut off the Corsairs.

The three men moved down to the very edge of the water, where they stood in a relaxed line. Maelith waited behind them, perched on the rocks, her bow in hand as she watched further down the river. Against the hazy backdrop of smoke and gray skies, the sharp Corsair ships were menacing and barbaric as they sailed closer and closer to her friends. "Do you see them?" she called down.

"Only the first of the fleet," Aragorn replied calmly.

"That is the one to aim at. The captain sits upon that ship," she told him, slowly sinking into a crouch.

They fell silent as the head of the fleet approached, flanked on either side by smaller ships. "You may go no further!" Aragorn called across the water. Maelith watched as the men on the ship turned, and the captain rose from his ebony chair to look to the shore. "You will not enter Gondor," the Heir of Elendil told them.

The sailors, pirates really, laughed cruelly. Striding to the side of the deck, the captain demanded, "Who are you to deny us passage?"

Hidden beneath her cloak, Maelith smirked and called, "He is the heir of Elendil, the King of Gondor!" The pirates aboard the ships were of Black Numenorean and Southron descent, they knew well the name of their hated enemy, and so it had the perfect effect upon them. They all moved to look, searching for the voice that had spoken and muttering about the king of Gondor.

"Legolas, fire a warning shot passed the bosun's ear," Aragorn ordered quietly. Eagerly Legolas drew an arrow from his quiver and knocked it.

"Mind your aim," Gimli told him as he drew the bow. Maelith watched, keeping perfectly still, as Legolas took aim, only for Gimli to whack the bottom of the bow with his axe handle. Her jaw dropped as the arrow struck and killed the first mate standing beside the captain. Legolas whirled to Gimli, disbelief and anger marring his face as the Dwarf covered his mouth. "That's right. We warned you. Prepare to be boarded!" Gimli snarled to the men of Umbar.

The pirates and brigands laugh, and one man called, "Boarded? By you and whose army?" The ship was as close to shore as it was going to get and yet they still could not see the woman who'd called out.

"This army," Aragorn hissed. Maelith watched from her perch as the King of the Undead roared and charged _straight through_ Aragorn. Behind him, the ghost army materialized out of the rocks and charged forward, running straight across the water. On the ships, the sailors reeled back, yelling in fear and horror and disgust before the ship was swarmed by the green fog.

"Maelith?" Legolas called up the rocks once he was free of the ghosts.

"They've taken three ships. The others are trying to turn around," she told him, standing to look down the river.

"They'll never make it," Gimli crowed and Maelith nodded.

"They've taken the last ship," she told them. "Which ship shall we take gentlemen?" she asked, sliding down the rocks from her perch. Legolas steadied her as she landed beside him and they shared a small smirk.

"Come. We must sail through the night if we are to save Minas Tirith," Aragorn told them. The Undead King brought the lead ship up to the shore, and the four were hasty in their climb aboard. "Sail, with all haste, to Gondor and battle," Aragorn ordered the undead. Maelith stood at the prow of the ship, balancing easily on the deck, and watched through the night as they sailed.

Dawn found her seated in the prow, unfocused eyes fixed on the water. Legolas was seated beside her, hands resting lightly on the bow across his lap. _'Turn around, Daughter of Gil-galad,' _a soft voice ordered her, and she stood smoothly. Her eyes widened, and she reached down to shake Legolas awake.

"A red sun rises," she murmured to him, amazed that the sun rose at all.

"Théoden must have reached the battle field. The clouds retreat from the North," he said as he took in the sight before them. The closer they sailed to Gondor the darker the skies had grown, but far off in the North, the skies were clearer, shining golden with sunlight.

"Battle is not far now," she added, and he nodded. She started to turn away, but a sound caught her ears, faint and carried only by the wind. It was deep and lilting, a sound of the plains and horses and broad men and strong women. She whipped back around, her hair a dark halo around her and leaped up onto the side of the ship. "Listen!" she gasped. "The horns of Rohan sound in battle!"

One of his hands brushed her hip, ensuring that she did not topple into the river below, but there was a smile on his face. "I hear them," he assured her. "They herald in the sunrise," he mused, and she grinned down at him.

"The light rides on the horses of Rohan," she decided, nodding. She liked the sound of that. It reminded her that not all hope was lost. "I will wake Aragorn. He must know," she realized.

"I am awake," Aragorn's voice from behind them made her look over her shoulder and she grinned. "Prepare for battle. Gondor is just ahead," he told her grimly. She drew her bow from her quiver, her grin falling into a determined line. Legolas touched her shoulder, but he moved away with Aragorn.

Maelith turned to face the sun once more and whispered, "We are coming, my friends. Do not lose heart." Then she pulled her hood up and drew her cloak around her, crouching as Aragorn had ordered. He intended to take the orcs by surprise and maybe by fear if the Undead had anything to do with it. She shared a devious grin with Gimli, who was hidden between Aragorn and Legolas and he winked.

It took all her willpower not to break her position when she heard the harsh, higher horn of the sand and scorching sun and painted warriors. "Harad," she breathed, her voice too soft for any to hear.

Her eyes flew open when she felt the ship draw to a stop. "Late, as usual!" an orc yelled from her left. "Pirate scum!" "There's knife-work here that needs doing. Come on, ya sea rats! Get off your ships!"

In reply, Aragorn leaped over the side of the pirate ship with a yell. Gimli thudded to the pier beside him as Maelith and Legolas landed neatly on either end, weapons at the ready. The orcs stepped back as Aragorn straightened and Maelith grinned. In the front of the mutilated force, their captain readied a scythe and Aragorn strode forward, lifting Andurin. "There's plenty for the both of us. May the best Dwarf win!" Gimli said to Legolas as they charged to Aragorn's right. On his left, Maelith knocked an arrow, moving forward but keeping behind him. She was determined to watch his back as the Army of the Undead swarmed from the ships.

The orcs fell before the ghosts with barely noticed resistance. They charged through the docks towards the Pelennor fields, the four winding around each other as they fought. No orc could stand before Andurin and the might of the warrior who wielded the blade. But none could escape the duet of the Elven bows or the count following the Dwarven axe.

As she whirled around Legolas, Maelith looked desperately for Eowyn, Merry, or Eomer. She could see nor hear any of them, only Aragorn and Gimli as they smote down a particularly deformed orc. "Legolas!" Aragorn yelled. The Elves turned to see an Oliphaunt bearing down on them, and Legolas shoved Maelith aside as he ran to meet it.

She watched in horror as he leaped up onto a tusk, neatly dodging the spikes tied to it. He jumped onto the bottom of one front leg and she darted to the side, avoiding the swinging tusks. Putting on a burst of Elven speed, she darted after the Oliphaunt, shooting down an orc who escaped the Undead in her path. His count was easy for her to hear, but a second of the mammoth creatures distracted her.

Veering off to the side, she was relieved to see that this one did not have the chain strung between its tusks as she darted underneath it. Leaping over the body of an orc, she fired two arrows simultaneously into the weak point where the leg met the body and watched as the beast stumbled. Two more arrows into the other side made it stumble again and she whipped a knife free. Leaping up, she sprang onto the right hind leg, slashed her blade across the thigh muscle and pushed off. Elven strength drove the blade up to the hilt in the left leg and the Oliphaunt trumpeted a wail of pain. Smirking triumphantly, she yanked her blade free of the flesh as blood bubbled from the wound and sprang clear. As she caught the tail of the beast, it collapsed, and one last flick propelled her to land a little ways ahead of Legolas.

A Harad arrow whizzed past her ear and she ducked, whirling, her knife spinning out of her hand. But she was not fast enough. White hot pain erupted in her shoulder, just below the edge of her cloak even as her blade buried itself in the throat of the archer who'd survived the fall of his Oliphaunt. A startled scream of pain was drawn from her throat and she stumbled. Refusing to fall, she lashed out at the last Haradrim charging her, scoring him across the face with her bow. Her right arm fell limp at her side as she spun and slammed her foot into the back of his head. He crumpled and she reached up, snapping the arrow shaft sticking out of her shoulder.

She cried out as pain laced down her arm and across her shoulders, but stood strong anyway. It was discerning to feel warm, sticky blood running down her chest, but the wound was not enough to stop her. She had to get back to Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas. She had to find Eowyn and Eomer and Merry. She had to get to Gandalf and Pippin. So she forced herself to retrieve her knife and slowly move up behind Legolas, relived to see him unharmed. Gimli and Aragorn too were fine, standing before the King of the Dead.

"Release us," the King snarled.

"Bad idea," Gimli told Aragorn. "Very handy in a tight spot, these lads, despite the fact they're dead."

The King of the Dead glared at the Dwarf, then snapped at Aragorn, "You gave us your word."

Aragorn nodded and said, "I hold your oath fulfilled. Go. Be at peace." Maelith watched from a distance as the Ghost king sighed, closing his eyes. Behind him, the soldiers wavered and shimmered faintly before they vanished, swept away by the wind as their souls finally found rest. Aragorn turned back to the battlefield then, taking in the carnage around him. Soldiers walked randomly across the field, checking for life within both friend and foe.

Maelith turned, keeping her injured shoulder from view, and saw Gandalf bow his head to Aragorn. Then her attention was caught by a heart wrenching wail of despair and she whipped around, gasping as she jarred her shoulder. Eomer ran across the grass, dropping both sword and helm before he dropped to his knees and picked up the limp form of Eowyn. "No," Maelith murmured, starting forward. She wove her way between corpses, stumbling twice, before she reached Eomer's side. Then all she could do was kneel beside him as he cradled his sister's limp body. But something did not feel right. There was darkness here, not death, so Maelith reached her good hand out and pressed it to Eowyn's neck.

There she found the faintest of pulses, weak but steady. "Eomer," she gasped, drawing her hand away. "Eomer, she's alive," she realized. With a sharp breath, the Marshal of the Riddermark yanked his gloves off and pressed two fingers to his sister's throat. When he found her pulse, he bolted to his feet, lifting her easily. "Go, get her help," Maelith ordered, remaining kneeling on the grass. He did not think twice but took off, covering great ground as he ran for Minas Tirith.

Hissing in pain, Maelith slid her bow back into her quiver and pushed herself slowly to her feet. Eomer's helm and sword still lay in the grass, so she collected them. Sticking the blade through her belt, she reached down to lift the horse-tailed helmet and straightened. But to her confusion, the helm slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. "Lass?" Gimli's voice made her look up, but she could only see the hazy outline of her friend.

"Gimli, I think," she managed to say, "I think…" Then to the horror of both the girl and the red-haired warrior, she fell, her legs giving way beneath her.

Blinking rapidly, she felt the stout form of the Dwarf catch her before she face-planted into the blood-soaked grass. "Legolas!" he bellowed, but the sound was muted in Maelith's ear.

The silver haired Elf looked up at the bellow, and turned, scanning the field for the Dwarf. When he saw Gimli holding Maelith, the Elf felt his blood run cold. Weaving his way through the carnage strewn across the field he knelt beside them, quickly taking Maelith's limp form. "What happened?" he demanded, pressing two fingers to her throat to feel for a pulse. It was there, strong but rapid. Too rapid.

"She's hurt, lad," the Dwarf pointed out as he took a step back. Legolas's eyes instantly found the broken arrow in her shoulder and he winced. Dark crimson blood was spreading down the front of her shirt and jerkin, but the wound didn't seem to be fatal. So why had she collapsed?

"Get Aragorn," he ordered Gimli, glancing up. Once the Dwarf hurried away, he turned back to the girl held against his chest. "Maelith? Maelith can you hear me?" he asked, gently brushing her hair from her face.

Her eye lids fluttered, long eyelashes brushing her cheek before he saw the slit of blue. "Legolas?" she murmured, wincing as her voice rasped.

"I am here. Aragorn is coming," he replied. She nodded and sighed, closing her eyes again, and alarm flared in Legolas. "No, Maelith, do not close your eyes. Stay with me," he ordered, lifting a hand to her cheek.

"I do not plan on going anywhere," she assured him, but her eyes fluttered open obediently. She smiled tiredly up at him, but he noticed that her face was losing color quickly. "I am not in pain, Legolas, do not look so worried. The pain released a number of memories. I was overwhelmed. The wound is not serious," she said. Clearly she could read the expression on his face.

"But it is still a wound that must be checked," Aragorn told her as he joined them. Relief washed over his face to see Maelith awake and mostly well. He knelt beside her and used gentle, trained hands to rip open the shoulder of her shirt down to the arrow. After a moment of examination, he nodded and assured her, "You're right, Maelith. The arrow did not go deep. It will only require stitches and a bandage once we get the arrow out." She nodded, having known that already, but Legolas seemed reassured now. "Are you well enough to walk?" Aragorn asked, pulling her cloak over her bare white shoulder.

Before she could reply, Legolas shifted his arms beneath her and lifted her smoothly. Then he set her on her feet, having seen the look she'd turned on him. She found her legs strong once more and nodded confidently. But both Elf and Numenorean escorted her to Minas Tirith, both keeping a careful eye on her.

But Maelith was able to laugh when the healer woman shoved the two men out of the infirmary. "Go," Maelith laughed at them as they tried to argue. "It is only a few stitches, Legolas, I will be fine," she assured the affronted Elf. He sighed, meeting her eyes, but nodded reluctantly. Aragorn drew him away, and she knew they would return to help in the city. Then she sat on a short stool and let the healer strip her of her quiver and cloak. Her shirt and jerkin had to be cut off, leaving her only in a breast-band, her leggings, and boots.

"This will hurt," the woman told her, examining the broken shaft she would have to pull from the Elf's shoulder. She was surprised when all the girl did was nod and pull her hair over her other shoulder, out of the way. With practice earned from many years of living so close to Mordor, the woman pulled the arrow free and threw it in a rubbish bin. Fresh blood pumped up out of the wound, only to be met by thick bandages. Maelith kept perfectly still while she waited for the bleeding to stop, and barely reacted when the woman stuck a needle through her skin. The needle was hot, having been sitting in a candle flame to sterilize it, and she actually welcomed the burn.

She didn't realize she'd dozed off until the woman gently shook her awake. She looked down to see that her shoulder had been wrapped in bandages and her arm hung in a sling. But the startling thing was the finely made dark blue shirt she had been dressed in. Clearly meant for a broad-shouldered man, it hung loose on her lithe form. "Captain Faramir brought clothes for you," the healer told her quietly.

"Faramir?" Maelith murmured, not knowing the name.

"Son of Lord Denethor," the woman explained.

"Boromir had a brother?" Maelith realized, slightly worried. He must know by now that his elder brother was never going to return to the White City. The healer nodded and draped her cloak over her shoulders once more. There was a noise at the door, and Maelith looked up to see Legolas waiting for her, her quiver and bow in his hand. His face was blank, which set off a warning bell in her head before she'd even reached his side. She followed him up the pathway until they were in the very upper level of the city. The sun was rising again, and she realized she'd slept through the night. "Legolas?" she murmured.

But he did not answer as he led her to stand beneath the White Tree of Gondor. Aragorn sat on a bench around the white marble pool, but it was the man sitting next to him that spoke at Maelith's approach. "I was afraid it would fit poorly," he said, observing the loose shirt she wore.

"Still, the gesture is appreciated," she assured him, realizing that this young man was Captain Faramir. She looked him over, taking in the bandages she could see beneath his shirt and the sling that held his arm. But what she really saw was a leaner, younger Boromir with sad, heavy eyes. His hair was lighter and curly, cut short over his forehead in bangs brushed back away from his face. His blue eyes were lighter, but she could see the weight of grief in them. "You look so much like your brother," she murmured, standing before him. He did not move as she touched pale fingers to his heart, though Aragorn and Legolas watched with apprehension. "But you are more like him here than you realize, Faramir," she murmured to him.

His good hand came up to cover her own, and he met her eyes. "There is a legend among the Rangers of the South of a fair woman who never ages. Her eyes are bluer than the sky, and she wears a ring of silver vines," he told her, touching the ring on her finger. "They say her voice is so beautiful that she could charm the weight from a man's shoulders with just a sentence." At this, Aragorn and Legolas shared a look of knowing. "It is good to know that you have returned to Gondor, Lady Nariel," he added, standing slowly.

"Maelith!" a familiar voice called from behind the girl and she turned curiously. Sandy curls bounced as Pippin hurried across the grass towards them, helping a tired looking Merry. They both wore only their white shirts and tan pants; they were free of their borrowed armor.

Maelith turned and knelt as the Hobbits reached her, and they both threw their small arms around her. Her good arm wrapped around Merry as she leaned her head against Pippin's curls, and for once, the two were quiet. Pippin's hug was a lot stronger than Merry's, so she was gentle as she hugged him back. "Thank the Valar," she whispered, glancing up as Gandalf, Eomer, and Gimli joined them. The wizard's hand brushed the top of her head, where her braids should have been, and he offered her a small smile. She saw him nod and pulled back from the Hobbits clinging to her. They looked at her with relieved eyes, and she stood, letting Merry lean against her hip. Pippin stood protectively at his best friend's side, watching him carefully for signs of weakness.

"How is Eowyn?" Merry asked Aragorn.

"She is well on the way to recovery," the heir assured him. "Speaking of recovery, you ought to still be in bed," he added, turning to Faramir.

"I wanted to thank Master Pippin for saving my life yesterday," the young captain replied. He knelt before the smaller Hobbit as the others looked on proudly, and Maelith looked to Gandalf curiously. "You Hobbits truly are the bravest of people. Your people will always be welcome in Gondor," he told Pippin. The little Hobbit blushed, ducking his head, then shook Faramir's hand. Maelith set her hand on his shoulder, and he smiled up at her as Faramir stood.

"Come. There is much to discuss," Gandalf told them.

"Go, get something to eat. You have earned your rest," Aragorn ordered the Hobbits and Faramir. The son of the Steward nodded and led the two Halflings back across the grass, disappearing into the white marble buildings.

Gandalf led the way into the Hall of Kings, where the group spread out around the white throne and the black seat. Gimli sat on the black seat of the Steward, leaving Eomer and Legolas to stand beside him. Maelith sat gracefully on the bottom step to the White Throne, watching Aragorn as he turned away from the chair that belonged to him. "Frodo has passed beyond my sight," the wizard sighed. "The darkness is deepening," he told Aragorn.

"If Sauron had the ring we would know it," Aragorn replied. He stood looking up at the statue of Elendil, and Maelith noticed how similar they looked. Aragorn had the same proud, strong stance and powerful build as the High king of Old.

"It is only a matter of time." Gandalf told him. "He suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping."

"Let him stay there," Gimli let a puff of smoke out, pulling the pipe from his mouth. "Let him rot! Why should we care?"

"Because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom," Gandalf pointed out. Then he turned away and sighed, "I've sent him to his death."

Aragorn turned to him and said quietly, "No. There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

Gimli was suspicious as he asked, "How?"

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands," Aragorn suggested. "Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Gimli coughed out a puff of smoke in shock, and Maelith straightened curiously. Eomer took a step towards Aragorn and reminded him, "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."

"Not for ourselves," Aragorn told him. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us." Then he turned to Gandalf and said, "Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion," Legolas realized.

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?" Gimli mused.

"Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait," Gandalf said quietly to the heir.

"Oh, I think he will," Aragorn replied with a smirk. "He will not be able to resist the heir of Elendil and Isildur," he added.

"Aragorn, the Palantir is dangerous," Maelith reminded him. She was a little worried now. She'd seen the effects the seeing stone had on Pippin, and she'd felt it herself. Aragorn risked much by handling the stone. But he simply turned to her and nodded as Gandalf hurried from the throne room to fetch the Palantir.

When the wizard returned, Maelith stood and moved aside as Gandalf set the wrapped stone at the base of the stairs. "Come," the wizard sighed to the rest of them. He handed Andurin to Aragorn at the door, and the others slipped out of the hall.

As Maelith went to move passed Aragorn, he reached out and caught her good arm. "Stay," he requested quietly. She glanced at Legolas, who simply nodded, and she followed Aragorn back through the darkened room. "Do not let me fall," he requested.

"As I promised," she assured him, standing off to the side as he approached the Palantir. Then she added silently, 'As I promised Boromir.'


	15. The Clouds Will Clear

**Author's Note: Sorry about the cliff hanger! Chapter 14 was so long already, and I thought that was a good place to cut off. So, here's the rest of the scene!**

Chapter 15

Aragorn flipped the covering away from the orb and it sparked with orange fire. He and Maelith both flinched and looked away. Then Aragorn raised his hand, holding it uncertainly over the swirling fire.

Maelith saw that his hand was shaking, and she moved up to his side. "Estel," she murmured, setting her hand on his shoulder.

He took a deep breath and splayed his fingers across the stone. While he lifted it, turning it over, she backed away and stood beside the throne. She was out of sight of the stone, but she could watch him carefully from there. But she flinched again when the eye swirled to life in the depths. "Long have you hunted me," Aragorn snarled at the Eye of Sauron. "Long have I eluded you. No more," Aragorn was quivering with the effort of withstanding the Eye and Maelith watched worriedly.

Then Aragorn held up Andurin and the Eye jolted. Maelith clenched her hands as the dark energy struck her and she felt her heart rate rise. "Behold the sword of Elendil," the heir growled.

Maelith gasped when she heard the dark speech of Mordor. The words had great power behind them, and drove her to her knees as her chest began to burn. "Daughter of the Elf King," Sauron sneered to her even as he fought back against Aragorn. "You have failed, little Ring Bearer," the Dark Lord told her.

She did not know what he showed Aragorn to make him lower his sword and pale, but she cried out as she watched her father confront Sauron and burst into blame. "Ada!" she gasped as Aragorn lurched to his feet, dropping the Palantir hastily. Then her eyes were caught by a blur of silver as the Evenstar fell from Aragorn's neck.

Aragorn's horror and despair was clear on his face as they stared down at the starburst of silver metal and white light. "No," he whispered, dropping to his knees beside the shattered jewel. His fingers brushed the remains of the pendant, and Maelith staggered to her feet.

She grabbed the covering and wrapped the seeing stone back up, refusing to look at it as the Eye vanished. Then she knelt beside Aragorn. "What did he show you?" she asked as she wrapped her good arm around his shoulders.

"She is dying," he sighed, and she understood. His love was dying, and now the only thing he had left of her was gone.

"Then there is even more reason for us to march on the Black Gates. She will live if we give Frodo the chance to destroy The Ring," she reminded him.

"Then we must ride now to march on the Gates at dawn," he told her, getting to his feet. She nodded and took up the Palantir, intending to return it to Gandalf. "You are wounded, Maelith, you must stay here," he added.

"No, Aragorn. I told you I was going to stand beside you, and that includes following you to the Black Gates. Our fathers stood their thousands of years ago, now it is our turn. I ride with you," she replied, lifting her chin. He nodded, his dark eyes heavy as he met her gaze, but he could not argue.

Outside the hall, they found the others waiting for them. Gandalf hastily took the Palantir from the girl, and Legolas stepped forward. Eomer and Aragorn vanished inside a building to prepare for the march, and Gandalf and Gimli followed. "You are gray," Legolas told her softly, watching her in concern as she slipped her good hand through his elbow. He led her to stand beneath the White Tree, where she gazed up at the three blooming flowers she could see.

"I saw my father die, Legolas. I failed him. Sauron showed me what he did to my father," she whispered. "I watched my father burn at the hands of the Dark Lord. I heard his body break against the stone. I could not save him. Now I ride again to the Black Gates. What if I fail you, or Aragorn, or Gandalf?"

Legolas sighed and turned her to face him. "Then our time has come. You will only have failed if you have not tried, Maelith," he told her. He slipped his hand under the collar of his tunic and withdrew a silver chain, and the leaf caught the light of mid-day. Turning it over, he held it before her gaze, and watched as her blue eyes found the word engraved on the back. When she closed her eyes he kissed her forehead and put her pendant away. "I will fetch our quivers. Stay here. Do not lose heart, Maelith," he murmured, slipping away.

She watched him leave, then turned and walked across the grass to stand at the very edge of the peninsula. She looked up at the black sky above her, seeing the fires of Mordor on the horizon. Grief washed over her, and she held onto the white wall to keep from sinking to her knees again. "Where has the starlight gone? Dark is the day. How can I find my way home?" she started to sing quietly, clinging to what few memories of her father had returned.

"Home is an empty dream. Lost to the night. Father, I feel so alone. You promised you'd be there, whenever I needed you. Whenever I call your name, you're not anywhere. I'm trying to hold on, just waiting to hear your voice. One word, just a word will do, to end this nightmare." She remembered Lindon, but the memories brought only more grief upon her. Her kingdom, her home, was gone, abandoned, having fallen to ruins thousands of years ago.

"When will the dawning break? Oh, endless night. Sleepless, I dream, of the day. When you were by my side, guiding my path. Father, I can't find the way. You promised you'd be there, whenever I needed you. Whenever I call your name, you're not anywhere. I'm trying to hold on, just waiting to hear your voice. One word, just a word will do, to end this nightmare." Tears ran down her face as she remembered the day her father had given her a signet ring of her own. It had been one of the proudest days of her life. Her father had even given her a banner of her very own.

Her voice was quiet again as she continued, "I know that the night must end and that the sun will rise. And that the sun will rise. I know that the clouds must clear. And that the sun will shine." She had to believe that this would work. That by risking everything, they could give Frodo the chance to save them all. It was all they had left, this belief, and she refused to give into hopelessness. She was Esteleth.

Now she sang louder, for anyone to hear, "I know, yes I know the sun will rise. Yes I know, I know, the clouds must clear. I know that the night must end. I know that sun will rise. And I'll hear your voice deep inside. I know that the night must end and that the clouds must clear. Oh the sun, the sun will rise." Then she cast her voice as loudly as she could, down over all of Minas Tirith in the wind, "The sun, the sun will rise!"

Turning away from the wall, she found Legolas and Aragorn standing behind her. Aragorn wore the black livery of Gondor, and the White Tree was stylized on his chest, surrounded by the seven stars. He also wore chain mail and plate armor on his shoulders and upper arms. With Andurin sheathed at his side and his hair pulled back he appeared very formidable. Legolas too was rearmed with his bow and knives.

Faramir joined them a moment later, carrying a folded tunic and silver bracers. "For you," he told Maelith. As she opened her mouth to protest, he said, "It would honor Gondor if Nariel of Ithilien were to wear the White Tree." To this she could not argue and untied the sling from her neck. Her arm fell weakly at her side, but Legolas helped her pull on the tunic before he fastened the bracers over her wrists. He slid the sheaths of her knives over her cloak and she sighed heavily at the absence of her quiver.

They did not know who had brought their three horses from Dunharrow, but Maelith was glad to see Hasufel tacked up and waiting for her. Aragorn mounted Brego as Legolas swung up into Arod's saddle. Gandalf rode up on Shadowfax, and Eomer approached on his dappled gray stallion. Eowyn and Faramir watched, and Merry and Pippin hugged the two before they hurried over. Maelith drew a startled breath when she saw Pippin clad in the livery of the Tower Guard and Merry wearing the armor of an esquire of Rohan. Gandalf pulled Pippin up in front of him as Merry climbed up behind Eomer and Legolas gave Gimli a hand.

Aragorn took the lead as they descended into the lower levels, and as they rode out through the front doors, lines of horsemen fell in behind them. Forces of both Rohan and Gondor marched behind them as the heir called, "We ride for Mordor!" Harsh cheers went up, and Maelith moved Hasufel up between Legolas and Eomer. She glanced back at Minas Tirith, but the White City was gray with ruin and smoke. A number of piles of orcs and Haradhrim and Easterlings burned in the fields, but the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan had already been buried. Black flags bearing the White Tree snapped in the wind above the riders and Maelith sighed, turning back to the front and the road to the Black Gates.

"Maelith?" Aragorn called, and she looked up from her weak hand. Her eyes fell on the sight behind him and her eyes closed for a second. Then a herald passed her a black banner, and she held it aloft in her good hand, setting the bottom of the pole on her stirrup.

"I know that the sun will rise. I know that the night must end and that the clouds will clear. And I'll hear your voice deep inside. I know the sun will rise," she murmured to herself, though Legolas was able to hear as she sang softly. All around her, soldiers fell into ranks, shields ready. Black and white banners flew above them and she fell in at Aragorn's shoulder. Legolas, Gandalf and Eomer waited behind them, but the Gates were closed and clear.

"Where are they?" Pippin asked.

Aragorn looked back at him, then spurred Brego forward. Gandalf and Pippin followed on the left as Maelith fell in on his right. Legolas and Eomer cantered out behind them, each bearing a second behind them towards the Black Gates. They cantered across the dusty plains all the way to the entrance to Mordor and Maelith felt herself grow paler and paler the closer they got. When they drew to a stop, Aragorn yelled, "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"

There was a silent pause, when not even the wind spoke. Maelith could hear Gimli and Eomer along with Pippin and Merry all sighing or shifting uneasily. Then the gates creaked and heavy hinges groaned. Before them, the gates parted, swinging outward, and Maelith and Legolas exchanged a wide eyed glance.

Through the small gap came a single rider on an armored horse. When the messenger stopped before them, Maelith found herself staring at the Mouth of Sauron. "My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome," the creature leered in a deep voice. He flashed Aragorn a black, toothy grin and Maelith remembered putting an arrow in this creature's eye. A face shield now made this impossible.

Aragorn raised his chin, unimpressed, and Maelith glanced at Legolas out of the corner of her eye. She took heart in his glare of pure hatred aimed at the beast before them. "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?" the Mouth asked mockingly.

Gandalf was the one to reply, "We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

The Mouth of Sauron turned to the White Wizard and sneered, "Old Graybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He held up a white shirt of Mithril and Maelith's stomach sank.

"Frodo," Pippin realized, horrified. The Mouth tossed the shirt to Gandalf, who caught it, stunned. Pippin turned to the shirt and sobbed, "Frodo!"

"Silence," Gandalf cautioned the Hobbit in front of him.

"No!" Merry cried, his voice anguished.

"Silence!" Gandalf ordered the other Hobbit, turning to him.

The Mouth grinned wickedly and mocked, "The Halfling was dear to thee, I see." Maelith watched as Aragorn bowed his head but all she could do was glare icily at the beast. If Frodo was gone then this was for not. They'd ridden to their deaths. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host," the Mouth told them, earning himself a growl from Gimli. "Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain?" he asked as Gandalf pressed the Mithril shirt into Pippin's hands. "And he did, Gandalf. He did."

Aragorn nudged Brego forward and Maelith stiffened, ready to lower the spear that held her banner. The Mouth snapped his attention towards him and leered, "And who is this? Isildur's heir?" He did not turn as Aragorn rode to the side of him, favoring to sneer, "It takes more to make a king than a broken elvish blade." But Aragorn's answer was simply to draw Andurin and slice off the head of the Mouth with a furious yell.

"I guess that concludes negotiations," Gimli said.

Aragorn turned to them and said, "I do not believe it. I will not."

Maelith met his determined gaze and she nodded. "The sun will rise. The night must end. The clouds must clear. And the sun will rise," she murmured. "But first the storm must come.

Then the gates opened, revealing the Army of Mordor marching on them, and Aragorn ordered, "Pull back! Pull back!" They turned the horses and galloped back across the barren ground to the front line.

"Hold your ground! Hold your ground!" Aragorn shouted to their army. The men were shifting uneasily, their faces paling beneath their helmets. They stared at him uncertainly, and he rode back and forth in front of them, shouting, "Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down. But it is not this day. This day we fight!" Before him, the men straightened. Maelith handed off the spear to a soldier of Gondor as Aragorn continued, "By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!" As the men drew their swords and shook their spears, Maelith was drawing her knives, but she had to pass one from her left hand to her right and reach back for the second. She could not raise her right arm high enough to reach the sheath on her shoulder.

Brego reared as Aragorn turned him back to the forces of Mordor and the heir held Andurin high. But to Maelith's surprise, he dismounted and passed his reins to a man of Rohan that he knew was better suited for mounted combat. The others followed suit quickly, each passing off their horse, save for Gandalf. Shadowfax slipped into the ranks without a rider, and Maelith suddenly remembered how Mareas had fought within the ranks of the Elves over three thousand years ago. She shifted, moving to stand behind Aragorn, between Gandalf and Legolas as they watched the orcs slowly encircling them.

"Sing, Maelith," the Elf requested softly. "Sing for me," he murmured, meeting her eyes.

She nodded and raised her chin, her knives held at her side. "I hear the wind across the plain. A sound so strong that calls my name. It's wild like the river it's warm like the sun. Yeah it's here; this is where I belong," she sang calmly as the orcs moved closer, trusting in Legolas's presence beside her.

"Under the starry skies, where eagles have flown. This place is paradise; it's the place I call home. The moon on the mountains, the whisper through the trees, the waves on the water. Let nothing come between this and me." Merry and Pippin drew their swords in front of her, and she watched them proudly.

"Because everything I want is everything that's here. And when we're all together there's nothing to fear. And wherever I wander the one thing I've learned. It's to here I will always...always return," she finished as she leaned against Legolas's shoulder.

"I never thought I'd die fighting beside an Elf," Gimli remarked.

"What about side by side with a friend?" Legolas replied, smiling down at him.

"Aye. I can do that," the Dwarf assured him.

Now that Maelith had stopped singing, the orcs snarled, and Aragorn shifted his weight backwards. She heard the soft hiss of "Aragorn. Elessar," and was not surprised when Aragorn lowered his sword. He moved forward, captivated by Sauron.

Refusing to break her promise in the last moments, Esteleth whispered, "Estel."

Aragorn turned slowly, outlines by the Eye behind him, and met her eyes. Then he saw Gandalf raise Frodo's Mithril shirt and he whispered, "For Frodo." Then he raised Andurin and charged forward. With furious battle cries, Pippin and Merry charged after him. Legolas, Gimli, and Maelith ran after them, Eomer and Gandalf falling in on either side behind them. Roaring, the Men of Gondor and Rohan charged to battle behind them.

Maelith followed after Aragorn, spinning and whirling as her blades flashed. Gritting her teeth against the pain in her right arm, she stabbed and sliced and cut as she listened for the sound of Legolas's bow. When she did not hear it, she whipped around to see that he wielded his knives at her back. But she had to shake her head in pain when the Nazgul roared above them, swooping down on the battlefield.

The shriek of an Eagle caught her attention, and she watched as a giant Golden Eagle attacked the Nazgul closest to them. "Eagles! The Eagles are coming!" Pippin cried delightedly. More of the flock dive-bombed the fell beasts, shrieking furiously. They tore at the monsters with talons and beaks as Gandalf the White fought on below them. But after a moment, the Eye turned back to Mordor, and three of the Ringwraiths turned their mounts back to Mount Doom.

Maelith looked up as they flew over her head, realizing they weren't fleeing. "Gandalf!" she cried, scanning the battle for the wizard. When he saw her, he nodded, and she grinned savagely. They had to hang on, fighting as long as they could to give Frodo the chance to throw The Ring into the fires of Mount Doom.

Maelith turned back to the battle and froze. A troll was stomping towards Aragorn, armored and hefting a thick, spiked cudgel. "Aragorn!" she cried, launching herself into the beast's path. Whirling under the club, she slammed one knife into the side of its leg, aiming for the thick muscle. With a roar of pain, it swatted her away and she flew through the air to slam into someone. She felt the person, more likely an orc, stumble and fall beneath her, and she crumpled into the dirt. Hot, thick liquid was sticking Faramir's shirt to her shoulder, and she knew her stitches had torn open.

"Maelith!" Legolas's hand closed around her arms and lifted her, leaving her swaying on her feet. He stood protectively in front of her, cutting or shooting down the orcs around them, but more just kept coming.

"Aragorn, help Aragorn," she gasped, her hand coming up to her shoulder. She drew her fingers away covered in blood, but she did not feel any pain. But she did notice the fact that both her knives were buried in the back of a particularly large orc, so she leaned down to retrieve them. "The troll," she ordered, pushing Legolas away from her, "help Aragorn!" He was turning away to go when they both saw Aragorn fly through the air to land heavily on the ground.

"Aragorn!" they shouted. Legolas darted forward, shoving his way through soldiers of Gondor and Maelith did her best to follow. She ended up beside Eomer, who instantly realized how weak she was and planted himself in front of her. Her right arm hung uselessly at her side as she looked for Aragorn.

"Down!" Eomer shouted, pressing a hand to her shoulder.

She let him shove her into the dirt and his sword whistled over her head. Crouching there, between the uncrowned King of Rohan and the White Wizard, she could see Aragorn trapped beneath the foot of the troll. "Aragorn!" she screamed as she heard Legolas yell his name with her. She could only watch as the troll wailed in pain, Aragorn having stabbed its foot with his Elven knife. But it was not enough to make him draw the foot away.

A sharp wail of horror and pain made Maelith whirl, pushing herself to her feet. She looked up as orcs turned and fled, and had to scramble out of the path of the troll. Eomer came to stand beside her and everyone watched in shock as the Tower of Barad-dur collapsed. Wind blew across the dry plain as the clouds around the Eye swirled, drawn into the orb of fire. Maelith could see the Eye closing in on itself, dying, before it exploded with a clap of thunder. A burst of pure energy blew across Mordor and the ground rumbled.

"Frodo!" Merry cheered, lifting his sword. "Frodo!" A tired grin spread across Maelith's face as she heard the Hobbit, but she had to hold onto Eomer's arm as the ground inside Mordor collapsed in plumes of smoke and ash and dust. He held her upright while they watched in awe as the Black Gates fell into pieces, crushing fleeing orcs. Sauron's troops had no chance of escaping the collapse, and most fell with the land.

But the effects of The Ring's demise were not done. Mount Doom erupted, spewing fire and smoke into the sky. "No," Maelith gasped, realizing Frodo and Sam were in the midst of it.

"Frodo," Pippin sobbed beside Maelith. She turned and dropped to her knees, wrapping her good arm around the heartbroken Hobbit. None of them had any way of knowing that their two friends had escaped Mount Doom and taken refuge on a small island of rock within the flood of lava. They had no idea the two Hobbits were clinging to each other as they remembered the Shire and their friends, accepting that there would be no return journey.

"Gandalf! Gandalf, you must look for them!" Aragorn turned as the Eagles landed behind the Men of Rohan and Gondor. "If there is any chance they survived…" he trailed off, seeing the tears in the wizard's eyes.

"They made it this far. It would be folly not to hope now," the White Wizard realized, straightening. He hurried to the Eagles and climbed onto the back of one. Two others followed, taking off into the lightening sky.

Maelith turned to the sun as Hasufel, Brego, Arod, Shadowfax, and Eomer's horse were brought back. "Come on, lass, you're wounded. Ride with your man," Gimli ordered her once Legolas had swung back into Arod's saddle.

She nodded tiredly and sheathed her knives one by one before she took the Elf's hand. He swung her up in front of him easily, allowing her to lean back against his chest as he reached around her on either side. _"I will not let you fall,"_ he whispered in her ear.

"I know," she replied looking up at him. He smiled sadly at her, tightening his arms around her and she looked up again as the clouds cleared, revealing blue skies. _"__I know that the night must end and that the sun will rise. And that the sun will rise. I know that the clouds must clear. And that the sun will shine,"_ this time she sang in Elvish, knowing the language would have a more positive effect on the men around her. Then she sang louder, for all to hear, "I know, yes I know the sun will rise. Yes I know, I know, the clouds must clear. I know that the night must end. I know that sun will rise. And I'll hear your voice deep inside. I know that the night must end and that the clouds must clear. Oh the sun, the sun will rise. The sun, the sun does shine!"

As she sang, the troops had started a weary march back to Minas Tirith, cutting down any orcs they found in their path. But most that had survived the destruction of Mordor had fled into hiding, seeking out the dark corners of Middle-Earth. It would take many years to uncover them all and rid the world of the darkness of Sauron. But it would be done. For the sun shone down upon Aragorn, the heir, and the men he now led home.


	16. Awakening

**Author's Note: Legolas and Maelith finally share a moment! Yay! Also, this chapter is really just Maelith's past. I needed a bunch of stuff revealed so that I can show the after effects of the war on Maelith and Legolas, primarily in the epilogue.**

**To Samuel La Flame: yes, I was trying to establish an identity for Maelith that could explain why she is so connected to Gondor and committed to Aragorn. To Trudy; thanks!**

Chapter 16

She woke to the dawn peeking through her window. Her shoulder was a dull, steady throb, but the pain was already fading. Sitting up, she brushed back the soft white sheets, revealing this time a long white shirt with an untied lace-up neckline. Bare feet beneath her leggings hit the cold floor and she looked around for her socks and boots. They sat by the door, along with her weapons and cloak.

But it was the person leaning against the wall the warranted the soft smile. "Legolas," she greeted him, hesitantly stepping towards him. "What have I done to anger you?" she asked when he did not smile back.

"Angry I am not. I am simply unaccustomed to the worry you managed to stir in my heart. But you are awake now, and worry I need not," he assured her, stepping forward to meet her. A gentle hand came up to brush her unbraided hair back from her face, the touch feather light and saying everything the Elf could not. Sighing, he leaned his forehead against hers, content just to see the life within her silver-blue eyes.

"Has Frodo woken yet?" she asked softly, her hands resting on his chest. His heart beat steadily against her palm and she found the feeling comforting.

"Only Sam has stirred. Gandalf thinks it is taking Frodo longer to recover since this is the first time in many months that he is free of his burden," he told her. He was playing with a lock of her long hair, wrapping it around his finger, and it looked even darker against the pallor of his skin. They stood together for a long while, just savoring the fact that they were alive and together.

Several days passed before Sam woke. When he did, all his friends were there, greeting him with warm smiles, firm handshakes and eager hugs from Merry and Pippin. His clothes had been cleaned, but no matter how many times they were washed, the wear could not be removed from the fabric. The blonde Hobbit ate only a small portion of a meal, though this did not surprise any of them save Sam himself.

But it was not for several more days that Frodo finally woke. The others had been sharing a pleasant meal beneath the blooming White Tree when the rare laughter of Gandalf reached them. Pippin and Merry ran first to the door hiding their friend and opened it curiously. "Frodo!" they cheered and darted inside.

The sound of the three Hobbits laughing brought a delighted grin to Maelith's face. Three…Frodo! She sprang to her feet as Gimli scrambled up, and she hurried after the Dwarf. The stout warrior paused in the doorway, then let out a rumbling laugh. "Gimli!" Frodo called happily. Gimli clapped, laughing, and if Maelith had seen his face, she would have seen the sheen of tears in his eyes. He moved into the room, allowing Legolas to step into the doorway. The Elf's tunic shone blue in the sunlight as he stood framed in the stone doorway, the light turning his light hair to gold. He smiled at Frodo and stepped inside, taking his place beside Gimli.

Maelith followed him in, her smile growing even wider when she saw the three Hobbits all sitting on the bed. "Maelith?" Frodo asked, not quite recognizing her.

"Welcome back," she murmured, nodding as she stepped up to Legolas's side. Sliding her hand into his, the slightly taller Elf turned his smile on her, and a knowing look came over Frodo's face.

"Aragorn!" the Ring-bearer cried when the last came after Maelith. She glanced over her shoulder to see the man standing crowned by sunlight. He smiled as he moved to Maelith's side and it was the first full smile she'd seen on his face. Merry and Pippin were talking excitedly to Frodo, and Maelith laughed as Merry flopped over on his side, making everyone smile.

Then Frodo's blue eyes were caught by something behind them, and she looked to see Sam standing just inside the door. Her smile dropped slightly at the sadness in the blonde's eyes, but his small smile let her know they were all going to be okay. Hobbits really were the most amazing of people. They were so joyful and innocent and fun, but loyal and determined and strong. Their resilience was unmatched.

It was nearly the end of March when Frodo finally woke, and Aragorn was not to be crowned King until the first of May. So half way through April, when Legolas found her sitting under the White Tree singing for Frodo and Sam, she was startled by the return of his travelling tunic. "Where are you going?" she asked, cutting off her song.

"I must collect something for the coronation. Will you ride with me?" he asked. She nodded and leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Frodo's hair. Then she hugged Sam quickly and darted away. When she met Legolas in the courtyard, he stood waiting with Arod and Hasufel already saddled. He frowned slightly as he saw the black Gondorian style tunic over her white shirt, and it only grew deeper when he saw the bow in her quiver. "Is your shoulder well enough to use that?" he questioned.

"Weeks have passed since the battle, Legolas. I am fine," she assured him, stepping close enough that she could lean her forehead against the soft material covering his shoulder. The familiar scent of the forest still clung to his clothes, and she relaxed noticeably as she breathed it in.

"_We will see the forest soon, __**minuial**__ nin," _he promised, bringing his hand up to run his long fingers through her dark hair. It did not slip his notice that she wore no braids.

"_Where are we going?" _she asked, looking the scant two inches up to meet his eyes.

"_Lothlorien. Someone awaits us there," _he told her. As he spoke, he stepped back and swung up into Arod's saddle. She followed suit, urging Hasufel to trot close beside his white counterpart. They travelled peacefully all the way back to Lorien, making the trip far faster than it had been the first time.

They were greeted and brought before Celeborn and Galadriel by the new Marchwarden, Rumil, one of Haldir's brothers. He spoke very little Westron, so Maelith and Legolas easily fell into Sindarin to converse with him. Upon meeting him, Maelith was overcome by a fresh cloud of guilt and grief. Rumil quickly dispersed the guilt, assuring her quietly that his brother knew what he was risking when he led the Galadhrim to Helm's Deep. But it took his declaration that Haldir had died honorably and nobly so that the Free Peoples might live to really ease the burden on her shoulders.

The pair were given separate flets for the night, Maelith's considerably lower to the ground than Legolas's. But it was the evening of their arrival that brought great unrest. Galadriel summoned the girl to her private grove with the rise of the moon, and they stood beside the Mirror. "You have many questions for me," the Lady of Light said after a long moment of silence.

"I know not where to start," Maelith sighed, meeting the star-like blue eyes.

"Why do we not start with your bloodline?" Galadriel suggested. Maelith nodded, and Galadriel opened one of the scrolls she had brought with her. Holding it open with four stones, she presented Maelith with the oldest Houses of the Elves. The younger traced the names at the top with gentle, reverent fingers, slowly recognizing the names Ingwe, Finwe, and Elwe. From those three came the House of the Eldar, holding the Houses of the Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri. House Insignias marked each line of Kings, drawn as banners complete with color. As she watched the Houses split, earning new names and ruling new kingdoms, Galadriel told her softly, "Follow the Noldor." The Lady watched as Maelith's fingers found the House of Feanor, then of Fingolfin, and finally Finarfin.

"You are the daughter of Finarfin?" Maelith asked suddenly, looking up. "And Lord Celebrimbor was a grandson of Feanor. What of Lord Celeborn?"

"My lord is of the Sindar. But it is the Silver House of Fingolfin that holds your truth, Canneth," the Lady of Lorien replied gently.

Two generations down, Maelith understood. Gil-galad, born Artarano and crowned Ereinion, was the son of Fingon. He had married Lamedaur, born Aracaliel, who she traced back to the Nandor. But from their marriage had come not one, but two names. First came Narion, then Nariel. "I had a brother," she realized, falling back when she saw the date of death. He had died before their father…in the year of the Battle of Dagorlad. "That is why the line of Kings of the Noldor fell. The heir was killed in battle. And rule I could not," she mused, though tears now dripped down her cheeks.

"You were never meant to be Queen, Canneth. Your father trained your brother to take the throne, but you always preferred to serve him as his ambassador. And it turned out that you were well suited as your father's shield-bearer," Galadriel assured her.

"Who am I, my lady? Why have I been called so many names?" Maelith asked, turning from the family tree to face the Lady.

"On your birth you were given a name by your mother, Nariel. The name was in the Quenya language, the speech of Valinor. Both your brother and you were named for your father, who was named the High Flame by Fingon. When you came of age, as your father taught you to be his ambassador, he named you Maelith. He told me it came from maethor and silith, and he renamed your brother Silthor at his coming of age," the Lady began to explain.

"My brother and I were both silvery warriors then?" Maelith asked curiously.

"Silver for your eyes, warrior for your skills, as your father was named in Sindarin. You became known quickly as Maelith, Princess of Lindon, and Lady of the Golodhrim. Unlike your brother, you wielded not a sword or spear but a long knife and small shield. Then you came to Eregion to live with my lord and me. Your father wanted you to learn the ways of the Dwarves, for we were friendly with them then, and so you learned the art of crafting. I renamed you Canneth for your bravery. You never let your fear of heights stop you from working in **Hadhodrond**. The Dwarves came to love your voice, and they crafted this for you, so that all might know their beloved singer."

Now Maelith was handed a light-weight, finely made collar of white gold. "Mithril," she realized, taking the necklace. "They valued my voice so much they protected my throat with Mithril?"

Galadriel nodded, smiling, and continued. "Eventually, when my lord and I turned to Lorien, you returned to your father's palace. Then you returned to Eregion to meet Lord Celebrimbor. I believe your father wished you to watch over Annatar. When you returned to Lindon you carried with you the news of the Rings of Power, but you soon returned to Celebrimbor to aid him in his fight against Sauron. When next you went home, you brought with you council from Celebrimbor along with Nenya, and you brought her here to me, knowing that I could keep the White Ring safe in Lorien."

"I bore the Ring of Water?" Maelith asked. Her hand came up to touch a spot on her chest, and Galadriel knew she remembered the burn of the Ring of Adamant.

Again, Galadriel nodded and told her, "When your father learned of the attack on Eregion, he sent you with Elrond to aid them, but only you ever made it to the city. Celebrimbor sent you away again, knowing he would fall to Sauron, and you returned to your father with a heavy burden." Galadriel sadly noted the touch once more to the place on her chest where the Rings had burned. "Not two years later you earned your first braid in the Battle of Gwathlo after the siege of Lindon. You also met your first Numenorean when Ciryatur brought his navy to aid your father."

"I grew restless in the years of peace, so my father sent me to explore Umbar," Maelith smiled fondly at the memory, remembering the companionship of her brother for many decades.

"You were most welcome to the Elendili, the Faithful Numenoreans when Sauron spread his lies and began to sow unrest among them. You spent many centuries roaming Middle-Earth, though you often returned to Lorien to visit me. Haldir trained you in archery, though you always preferred the long knife. Eventually, you travelled to the South to explore beyond the White Mountains, becoming Nariel of Ithilien to the colonists of Pelargir. Once Elendil arrived in Middle-Earth, your father and the lords relied on your interaction with him to form treaties of welcome. You were there as Elendil founded the Kingdom of Gondor. You lent the High King your knowledge of the land, and he left Anarion and his sons to build Minas Anor at the base of Mount Mindolluin. Isildur and his sons built Minas Ithil to guard their new capital as Elendil went north to found Arnor," Galadriel grew sad now, and Maelith looked up.

"I remember the planting of the White Tree in Minas Ithil," the dark haired Elf murmured.

"Do you remember the felling of the Tree and the capture of Minas Ithil?" the daughter of Finarfin asked. When her Canneth nodded sadly, her eyes closing briefly, the Lady continued, "You advised Isildur and his family to go north to Arnor, but you stayed in Osgiliath with Anarion. Then you played a crucial part in the call to the Last Alliance; your father could not leave Lindon and the preparations, so it was you who spread the call to the kingdoms of both men and Elves. Your brother went with you, and together you forged alliances with sons of kings and lords."

"And my brother fell in the Battle of Dagorlad, when he tried to make King Oropher pull back and regroup," Maelith remembered. "It was only the three sons of Isildur that kept me from joining him in his fall. Then we began the siege of Barad-dur."

"When your brother fell, your father ordered you from the battlefield. He sent you to the Gray Havens with Narya, but you returned to the siege as soon as you were free of the Red Ring. The war lasted seven years, until the Last Battle," The Lady of Light was quiet, her voice hesitant, but she knew Maelith needed to hear this. She needed to remember.

"Anarion fell in 3440. I remember Isildur's grief. Then I watched Sauron take my father by the throat and burn him," Maelith said bitterly, her blue eyes darkening to silver. "I could not avenge him for Elendil's sacrifice and then Isildur cut the Ring from the hand of Sauron. I remember the blast when Sauron's body was destroyed. Thranduil and I were knocked to the ground. Lord Elrond sent me back to Gondor with Isildur after my father's death. He told me to try to persuade the King to let me destroy The Ring. I failed, and The Ring was lost in the Gladden River after I fled with Ohtar and the shards of Narsil."

Galadriel studied her for a long moment until she finally said, 'w_e can never know what would have happened if you had destroyed The Ring, Maelith. _

"I went back, after the birth of Arwen, to Lindon. My people were gone. My city was empty, deserted, falling to ruin. Just one more thing I could not save," Maelith told her. The memory was clear in her mind; her beloved city of ringing forges, colorful banners, and cheerful voices was quiet and sullen. Buildings had fallen in neglect and the forests had grown wild through what had once been roads and pathways and gardens.

"The early Third Age was difficult for you. You did not settle in one place for very long. Rivendell, Lorien, and Gondor all found you lingering in their forests over centuries, and often times we did not know where you were at all. All I could depend on to find you was conflict; every invasion of Gondor warranted a rumor of Nariel. I feared you would fade away, having lost your purpose. It was not until the Wizards arrived that you found a new role. Radagast the Brown sought your friendship, and in southern Mirkwood he built Rhosgobel with your aid." Now Galadriel smiled, and Maelith remembered the mismatched, haphazard cabin.

"I grew tired of the squabbles of men, so Gandalf sent me East to see what had become of the Blue Wizards. I never found them, so I returned to wandering," she remembered.

"For Mithrandir you travelled wide and far and you always brought back samples of plants for Radagast," Galadriel took the hands of her distance niece in her own, and Maelith could feel Nenya against her skin. "I did not see you until my daughter was captured by orcs and you led her sons to rescue her. After she sailed west, you brought Arwen here to Lorien and stayed with her here. But once again you grew restless and returned to travelling for Gandalf, and Nariel returned often to Gondor and now Rohan. Then you disappeared from Middle-Earth during the Fell Winter, and even my Mirror could not find you," she told the smaller girl.

Maelith was short by Noldor standards, reaching only five feet and eight inches. All of her kin had been at least a half a foot taller than she. But she remembered well how Sarumon had seemed to tower over her as he cast his spell on her atop Orthanc. "Sarumon knew I would discover his betrayal, so he sent me through a fold in the universe. He trapped me in a human body on lower Earth until Gandalf pulled me back," she told her guardian softly.

"He feared what the daughter of Gil-galad and the distant son of Elendil could achieve against Sauron. He was right to fear your loyalty to Aragorn," Galadriel mused gently. There was pride in her voice, and Maelith looked up into her eyes to see a look of love.

"Yes, he was," Maelith smiled sadly, and stood. "Thank you, my lady," she murmured, leaning down to kiss Galadriel's cheek. Then she slipped out of the glade, carrying her Mithril collar as she climbed the stone stairs.

Galadriel did not look up when a silver haired warrior sat beside her._ "My lady, you did not tell her of her time in Greenwood with my father and myself,"_ Legolas pointed out.

"_Those years are not for me to tell, Prince of Greenwood,"_ The Lady of Light murmured. _"But you should give her this. It belongs to her." _She handed over a gold circlet of interwoven vines, and he noticed the silver stars and leaves on the vines.

"_She will remember, will she not?"_ he asked quietly, gently taking Maelith's tiara. He had already been given his own crown from Celeborn. The Lord of Lorien had received a small party from Mirkwood only two days passed, and one had born his Prince's crown.

"_In time, perhaps. Memories are fragile. _Sarumon_ may have done more damage than we can ever know," _Galadriel cautioned him. "Now, go, rest. Tomorrow you will escort Lord Elrond and my granddaughter to Minas Tirith," she added, watching him.

"Yes, my lady," the warrior sighed. He bowed slightly before he retreated from the glade, leaving Galadriel looking up through the broad-leafed trees to the stars. As he climbed the winding stairs to his flet, he listened for Maelith, as he could not see her. What he heard made him pause and bow his head in pain.

Maelith was sobbing. Heartbroken, grieving, and furious, she lay curled on the soft bed on her flet. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards the sound, wishing he could comfort her. But he knew she would not welcome him, as he could not understand her sorrow. So he climbed to his own bed and sat vigil through the night.

Come morning, Maelith found a new set of Elven clothes waiting for her. The silver and white shirt was far softer than the finely made Gondorian one, and paired with a long, dark green travelling coat, she finally felt right. There was also a pack containing a dress with a wide, rounded neckline and long, tapering bell sleeves. She smiled as she held the gown up, seeing the silvery blue she loved. The lining of the neckline and sleeves were a darker silver, as were the laces up the back of the bodice. A pair of matching silver slippers rested in the bottom of the pack.

"Maelith?" Legolas stood outside the screen around the bed, his voice tinged with worry.

"I am ready," she replied, picking up both her quiver and pack. Settling both in their place on her back, she slipped out from behind the screen and let her hair fall across her cheek as she moved.

When he saw the new coat under her cloak, his eyes softened as he silently thanked Galadriel. But he could bear her unbraided hair no longer. He had already redone his own braids, replacing them in the back as to accommodate the importance of the coronation. "Turn around," he ordered, his voice uncompromising.

"No, Legolas. I will not braid my hair," she murmured, facing him steadily. There were tinges of red to the skin around her eyes, the only sign she had cried into the early hours of morning.

"Maelith, please. You have earned them," he sighed, reaching out to take her hands. "You are still cold," he realized sadly.

"I fear I shall not again know warmth until I pass from this land," she told him, gently pulling away. She moved passed him, heading for the stairs, her shoulders slumped in grief.

As she started her descent, Legolas said, "If you will not wear your braids, then I suppose you will not wear this." She turned back to him and saw that he held a silver and gold circlet in his hands. For a moment she thought it was his own crown. But his silver circlet of Greenwood design rested on his silvery hair. This design was older, sharper, and told of the High Kings of the Elves. "This belongs to you," he told her, holding it out to her.

"Perhaps once," she sighed, but she returned to him none the less. With shaking fingers she lifted it from his hands, tracing the flowering vines and the stars. Each star and flower was made of silver, but the leaves and vines shone gold. It marked her as one of the House of High Kings. None but those High Kings could wear a crown of gold, not even the Kings of men. Even Elrond and Thranduil bore crowns of silver, not gold.

Legolas could see the effect the tiara was having on her. Tears danced once more in her eyes, and he could not help himself but brush the first away with his thumb. "Do not cry, **meril** nin," he murmured. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she turned her back to him, brushing all her hair over her shoulders. Relief washed over him as he set to work braiding her hair, and when he was done, he took her by the shoulder. Turning her to face him, he lifted the tiara from her hands and set it on her hair. She ran her hand down the braid and found two thin braids suspending an elegant, flat plait. **(1)** The majority of her hair still hung free down her back in gentle waves.

"Hannon le, **caun** nin," she said softly, lifting her head to meet his eyes. Legolas sighed and rested his palm against her cheek. Hesitantly he ran his thumb across her pale lips, wishing he could make her smile. But her eyes were wells of grief and heartbreak. So he sighed again and pressed a kiss to her forehead, just under the tiara, and took her hand. As they started down the stairs he felt her hand shift in his and she intertwined their fingers. When he turned back to her, she leaned forward and kissed him. Her free hand came up to cup his cheek as he ran his own hand through her hair. Parting, she whispered, "Thank you," and he saw the smallest of smiles on her face.

AN: Hadhodrond=Khazad-dum, Meril=rose, caun=prince

Suspended fishtail on website called Princess Hairstyles


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